


To Bring Them Back

by Anonymonimus



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymonimus/pseuds/Anonymonimus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CONTAINS SPOILERS</p><p>“I would have followed him after that battle, you know…” Bilbo nearly whispered as his eyes watered, “and I would have called him my King…”<br/>“I know…” the Contractor whispered back.<br/>“So when I found that Elfish book and learned that all I had to do was give my life for them to live once more,” Bilbo choked pass the tears streaming down his face, “I knew before I actually considered doing it that I would.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This wonderful story was inspired by Durch-Leiden-Feude's fanart on DA titled 'Bring Them Back' she's already set out the guide lines of how she wants her story to develop so I'll be respecting them as best as I can xD
> 
> Anyways, this WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS so you have been warned xP
> 
> Review and like or whatever - I'm a noob to this website so I'm not sure how things work here yet lol
> 
> but most of all, ENJOY!

_In a hole, in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty hole infested with worms and other insects of the like, this was a hobbit hole and that meant comfort._

_In a hole, in the ground, there lived a hobbit._

_In a hole, in the ground…_

_In a hole…_

_In a hole…_

_In a…_

_Hole…_

Bilbo gasped, sitting up abruptly. He looked around the room in which he laid and, to his dismay, came to the conclusion that the stone walls and bared windows were not that of his home. He sighed deeply, burying his face into his hands, wondering if he had managed to fall asleep or if he had just been so engulfed in his own thoughts that he had believed them real for a split moment. Yet, Bilbo soon concluded that it didn't matter because he was not in his home.

He was in a stone room, in a castle where he would live for the rest of eternity. And it wasn't a beautiful, rich castle filled with life and merriness – no, it was a rundown castle with bared windows, cold stone tiles and a chilling breeze which meant discomfort. Said castle was huge yet only occupied by two souls, including Bilbo, and it smelled of moss and rot. The hobbit was ready to swear that all parts of the fortress were ready to cave in but nothing had fallen since his arrival (and Bilbo couldn't even remember how long ago that was).

Bilbo tossed and turned in his mildly comfortable bed, pulling the covers just a tad over his chin as to gain the most warmth possible but to no vain. He was terribly exhausted by the day's work, however his restless mind kept him awake as it did every night he had spent beneath the decaying castle's roof thus far. Desperately, he tried closing his eyes and forcing himself in the dream state but the blessed sleep he desired would just not come to him. Bilbo began to think it was a result of the contract he had made. Nonetheless, he kept his eyes closed and tried to encourage himself to slumber by conjuring positive thoughts of the past – _another_ past.

First, he thought of Thorin with his flowing black hair and hard stare, then of Fíli who was very similar to his uncle in character but resembled a lion more than a wolf, and finally he thought of Kíli with his boyish grin and hot headed thoughts. Once upon a time, those three Dwarves had been a big part of Bilbo's otherwise dull existence and had pulled him into a life of adventure. Though he had had many more companions, it was safe to say that Bilbo had grown most attached to the three mentioned.

Bilbo wondered how they were doing even if he occasionally did get the chance to see them. But the moments were short lived because his contractor would always busy him with tasks as was agreed in the contract. Still, Bilbo supposed that that was better than not seeing them at all. Things could have been much worse. He was thankful that his contractor wasn't such a bad man.

Speaking of the contractor, he was the second man living in the decaying castle alongside Bilbo. And although the hobbit spent most of his time around him, he never saw his face nor heard him utter his true name or title. Thus, it was for those reasons that Bilbo had taken to referring to him as the Contractor.

"Mister Baggins?" a sinister yet familiar voice whispered eerily. Bilbo let out a yelp, nearly jumping out of his own skin but he soon calmed when the sight of the Contractor came to view. The man (if a Man he was) was dressed in his typical black cloak, the hood pulled over his head, masking most of his face as it normally did. In the given darkness, one would assume that the man was an assassin. "You're still awake?"

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" Bilbo asked in return, he wasn't too sure whether it was or not.

"No, not at all, Mister Baggins." The hooded Contractor answered bluntly.

"Good…" Bilbo supposed. The Contractor was meant to be a somewhat serious and glum man (if, as said before, a Man he was), thus joking would take away his credibility.

However, now that Bilbo had given in his answer, his cold room was plunged into an uncomfortable silence. The Contractor clearly had a question for the hobbit but seemed to hesitate to ask which was odd because he normally didn't hesitate to do anything. "Tell me, Bilbo," he began after a moment. His voice was unnaturally soft, as if he meant to understand Bilbo with his upcoming question, "Why did you want this? Are the lives of those people really more important than yours?"

Bilbo seriously considered the question for a moment. He tried to ask himself, truly, if he indeed thought that the lives of the three Dwarven royalties he had met in another past were worth his life. And in spite of his stalling and pondering, Bilbo came to the same conclusion he had every time he pondered his decision.

"Yes," he said, a soft smile spreading on his face as he looked at the Contractor, "I suppose they are more important. Those three didn't deserve to die that day, not when they had sacrificed so much for their people, not when they had so much more to live for."

The calm expression overtaking Bilbo's face faded as his thoughts continued – as he replayed the events of a past that no longer existed. He remembered Thorin yelling at him to leave his sight once he had learned of his betrayal and seeing the desolated faces of his two nephews. Then, he remembered walking pass the many tents erected after the Battle of the Five Armies and passing by two gurneys on which laid Fíli and Kíli, lifeless with a white cloth covering their faces. Finally, he remembered speaking to Thorin one last time and bidding him a heart-breaking adieu as the King Beneath the Mountain took his final breath and followed his kin to Mahal's halls.

"I would have followed him after that battle, you know…" Bilbo nearly whispered as his eyes watered, "and I would have called him my King…"

"I know…" the contractor whispered back.

"So when I found that Elfish book and learned that all I had to do was give my life for them to live once more," Bilbo choked pass the tears streaming down his face, "I knew before I actually considered doing it that I would."

The contractor uttered no word as Bilbo cried in his bed with a pathetic smile on his face. He stretched out his hand and reached for the hobbit's cheeks from which he wiped away one of the many tears. Oddly enough, Bilbo seemed to relax under his touch but that was because the Contractor was rich in magik and was using his powers to help his servant unwind. When the sounds of sorrow ceased even as the tears continued to flow, the Contractor removed his hand and left the room silently.

"Sleep now, Mister Baggins." He whispered soothingly as the door clicked shut behind him.

But Bilbo knew sleep wouldn't come to him and that he would spend another night dabbling in memories of an inexistent past in which he smiled and laughed all the while surrounded by thirteen Dwarves and a sly Wizard. Thus was Bilbo Baggins' punishment for altering the tides of the past by using the powers of darkness.


	2. the King Beneath the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so chapter 2 is up and chapter 3 should be up some time tomorrow, probs much later than this one!
> 
> Other than that, I won't be updating everyday because I know I can't xD And I won't promise every week because my work speed is far from constant but, who knows xD I say one thing and I tend to do another lol so I,m just going to update whenever I can because I know that that bit is true!
> 
> I'm very thankful for the early support shown for this story, many of you have faved and added this story to your alert so yay :D
> 
> Don't forget to go check out the art that originally inspired the story (link in my profile) and ENJOY! Please review if you liked, I love hearing from you :D

_The setting sun painted the sky warmly with orange and rose, and under its view there they stood on a pile of stone labelled Carrock. Thorin was covered in dirt, sweat and dry blood, not only that but he was extremely tired yet incredibly relieved. His stare was glued to a small man who's face was fogged._

_"You…" Thorin nearly growled, "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!" he took a step towards the little man as he regained his breathe, "Didn't I say you would be a burden…? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?" he felt his heart thud heavily in his chest, as silence dwelled around them. Then, taking a breathe, Thorin finished his train of thought, "I've never been so wrong in my life."_

_As he admitted to fault, Thorin embraced the smaller man in a tight hug. The other's petit body tensed and remained still within the King's touch but soon loosened and accepted the contact with a content sigh. "I'm sorry I doubted you."_

_"Oh…no, I would have doubted me too." The small man replied sheepishly._

Thorin's eyes fluttered open, he found himself staring at the golden ceiling of his room.

His room in Erebor.

He sat slowly in his bed, burying his face in his hands as he sighed exasperatedly. That dream had been haunting Thorin for what felt like forever. He had scouted for wise men and dream-interprets from one end of Middle-Earth to the other in order to understand the persistent vision but to no veil. The most recent suggestion that had been made was that Mahal was sending him a message; he needed to find the man in his dreams. It had now been six months since the warrant for the stranger had been spread across the land but Thorin had had no luck in finding the mysterious man and was beginning to abandon hope.

Pushing the silk covers from his bare body, the Dwarf King trotted to his washroom where he cleaned himself and combed his hair and beard. Then he went to his wardrobe and pulled out the royal clothing he would be wearing during the day. Once he was dressed he headed to his mirror, inspected himself, and grinned upon sight. He looked like a king already even if he wasn't wearing any jewellery or his crown. However, his smile soon faded as the impending thought of something – someone missing pervaded his mind as it normally did. Eventually, Thorin had concluded that the cause of the mentioned thought was linked to the mysterious man in his dreams and that everything would be settled once he found him.

Shaking his head, the Dwarf King returned to the present matter: getting ready for his kingly business. He grabbed his crown and placed it on his head, adjusting it a little and then slipped on a few rings before he left his room and peered around the hall.

"Uncle!" Fíli grinned and waved as he made his way towards Thorin. He too was dressed like royalty and ready to assist and observe Thorin in action for he would inevitably be his successor.

Thorin returned the greeting, "Where's Kíli?" he asked noticing that the youngest of the line of Durin was not present.

"Well, you know," Fíli mumbled, his gaze wandering, "Sleeping…"

Thorin frowned at that. Although Kíli wasn't his direct successor, he was still in position to take over if something were to happen to Fíli before or during his reign. Nonetheless, Thorin didn't have time to deal with his youngest nephew, "It can't be help," he said as he began to lead the way to court, "I'll have a servant wake him as brutally as needed. We must attend to the people and deal with the matters present."

"Oh, speaking of such," Fíli began chasing after his uncle, "Thranduil still insists that he and his people deserve a share of the gold that we have retaken from Smaug."

"The answer will remain the same." Thorin growled, "We did not ask for his help, Men did. If he wishes for gold in return for his aid, he will have to bother those who had requested it, not us."

"But would it not be simpler to just give him the gold he desires?" Fíli asked. He too was tired of Thranduil's pestering and was ready to give the Elf-King whatever he wanted if it meant that he would just stop. "We have more than enough gold to spare and—"

"Need I remind you that the Elves _abandoned_ us in our time of need when Smaug first attacked?" Thorin hissed, interrupting his nephew. "The Elves will get no gold from us because they deserve none. The subject is now closed."

The rest of the walk to court was spent in silence as Thorin calmed his nerve and Fíli angrily envied his brother who still laid asleep in his comfortable bed. Just before entering the courtroom which was buzzing with noisy chattering, Thorin advised one of the servants to fetch Kíli immediately and use any means necessary if it meant waking him. Then, the two entered the room and all who were sitting rose to greet them with deep bows and promises of eternal allegiance.

After returning the bows, the Dwarf King and Dwarf prince made their way to the head of the table where they seated themselves comfortably and began the meeting. Of course, since it had only been six months since the official return of the Dwarfs in Erebor, the meeting consisted specifically of the kingdom's repopulation and renovation. Smaug had done his fair share in destroying the old beauty that once composed the mountain but time had done its part as well. Over the meeting, Thorin came to the grieving conclusion that most of his gold would be spent on supplies to restore Erebor to its natural glory – which, he presumed later, wasn't such a bad thing.

Once the meeting was deemed finished, all left to go to the dinning halls and fill their empty bellies with mead and meat. Thorin, who had snatched Kíli on the way and was nagging him about his tardiness and lack of seriousness, made his way with Fíli to the royal dinning halls where ten friends greeted them already deep into a food war. From what Thorin understood thus far, the right side of the table was low on men and food to throw whereas the left side had seemed to have stolen most of the projectiles and was massacring its opponent. Fíli and Kíli, having noticed the same thing as their uncle, quickly darted for the right side of the table and served as reinforcements.

For a moment, Thorin merely stood watching his friends and family waste their food and thought of how dismayed the servants must have been once the war began. However a smile soon spread on his face and, instead of interrupting the inappropriate war like he normally did, he waited for them to finish and the servants to clean the mess. It was as they brought new food that they prayed the feasters wouldn't waste it again, that Thorin spoke to greet them properly.

"My dear friends and family, my kin," he began, the tender smile still painting his face, "How it pleases me to see you all present and in good health. Now that the food is renewed, I pray you won't waste it again," they laughed gaily at the comment but promised all the same that they wouldn't throw anything around the room, "And now, let us eat."

And that they did. There was a pleasant silence at first but when Bombur belched loudly and summoned a few laughs, the dinning room was filled with loud voices engaging in conversations. The only quiet one was Thorin, and he merely stared at his group with great content. He was glad they were all here with him.

However the feeling of having someone missing interrupted that same thought. He didn't feel right to think that everyone was there with him – granted they were missing a wizard but there seemed to be someone else absent. He sighed heavily and tried to identify the fifteenth member of their party when the vague memory of the small man dwelling in his dreams surfaced. Thorin felt his heart beat heavily and wondered if it was just his obsession with understanding his reverie that had conjured the image, but the more he pondered about the small man, the more he felt closer to remembering. He could nearly remember his face when—

"Thorin, lad," Dwalin said, his voice booming loud enough to rip Thorin from his train of thought, "Eat up! You're food's getting cold!"

" _Lad_?" Kíli repeated with a smirk, "That's no way to address your _King_!"

"Well you'll have to pardon me," Dwalin laughed, "I cannot see Thorin as anything more than that annoying lad, constantly buzzing around me as a child!"

Thorin smirked, "You know," he began, "You never shooed me away."

"You were the King's _grandson_!" Dwalin pointed out, emphasizing on the last word, "What kind of fool would dare to do such a thing to royalty?"

"And yet you call the King _lad_." Balin stated with a hearty laugh, "If you ask me, that's no better than shooing away the King's grandson."

"Speaking of grandsons," Bofur began, taking a puff from his pipe, "Are the heirs hunting for mates, yet? You will eventually need a heir of your own."

"That's Fíli's problem." Kíli quickly stated, abandoning his brother to the pestering of the family.

"I don't see it as much of a problem, lad," Gloín said, "There's a sense of accomplishment tied to being able to differ a female Dwarf from a male Dwarf."

"Aw shut it," Nori joked, "I bet you still can't tell whether your wife is male or not!"

"She did _birth_ my son," Gloín informed with laughter rumbling behind his every word, "Granted with a beard superior to mine, I doubt she's all woman!"

All at the table erupted in laughter, agreeing with Gloín but complementing his lovely wife all the same for she did have her attributes. "But back to our lads," Nori said once he managed to calm his own laugh, "We're curious to know if you've been eyeing any Dwarf lately."

"I personally haven't." Fíli admitted bluntly.

"That must be a lie!" Ori joked, "Surely one of the Ironhills have caught your eye!"

"No, but I see one has captivated you!" Fíli laughed. He inched closer to the Dwarf, "Come on Ori, tell us who has caught your shy heart!"

"Yes." Nori agreed dryly. He seemed ready to murder whoever tainted his little brother's mind. "Tell us."

Ori blushed horribly and was much too flustered to speak in coherent words which caused another hearty eruption of laughter. "Poor Ori can't speak!" Kíli laughed.

"Well it's good to know that at least one of the youths has a chance in founding a family!" Balin chuckled.

"What?" Kíli asked, slightly vexed by the comment.

"Well it's true lad," Dwalin agreed, "Not only are you unmotivated to find yourself a mate but you clearly have no characteristics on which to gloat to smite one's heart!"

"Rubbish!" Kíli denounced slapping his hands on the table. "I have more than characteristics to gloat about! I have a perilous adventure in which I freed Erebor from that petty worm, Smaug, to brag about – to shout to the world!" he stood on his chair grandiosely, and placed a foot on the table as he leaned forward, "One day, I will find that woman for me, and when I do I will tell her: _you, fair-lady, have the most dashing prince of Erebor standing before you!_ " Fíli rolled his eyes, "I will tell her: _not only that but you have one of the fourteen cavaliers who delivered Erebor from Smaug's tyranny!_ I will tell her how we scaled the lands, requested aid from the Ironhills which was brutally rejected but how we persisted nevertheless because we weren't about to abandon our home! I will tell her how a powerful wizard – Gandalf the Grey – joined our cause and became the fourteenth member of our company and how no bad luck ever tainted us from that day on! I will tell her about our journey through the Misty Mountains, the slaying of the Goblin King, the riding of the Eagles to Carrock and the hospitality of Beorn! I will tell her about our treacherous journey through Mirkwood and how we strayed from the path, blurred by our starvation, and how we fought off the giant spiders who dared intercept us! Then I will tell her how the Elves, who had tricked us away from the path in the first place, captured us and kept us locked in their dungeons for weeks on end before, uncle Thorin, as witty as he was, tricked the guards into giving him the keys! I will tell her about our quirky escape which brought us to Dale faster than a pony ride, and when she asks what could have been faster I will answer her: barrels!" mirth exploded at the word, "I will tell her how the Men of Dale felt incline to offer us the greatest of hospitalities once they learned that the great Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews had returned to deliver them from Smaug's terror! I will tell her how they praised us until our departure! Then I will tell her about our terrible battle with Smaug and how we managed to steal back some of our gold and anger him horribly even though he was familiar with the smell of Dwarves! I will tell her how that, in a fit of rage, he dared challenge us along the riverbank and that, with the help of man, we tricked him into the river which became his grave! _And that,_ I will say, _Is how we defeated the Calamity of calamities!_ " then there was a cheer, " _However,_ I will continue to say, _Our plight did not end there!_ I will tell her about the jealousy of the Elves and the war that had brewed between our kinds with gold as the prize! I will tell her how our kin from the Ironhills ran to our rescue and how the war was interrupted by a hoard of approaching goblins, who had found aid from orcs, ready to destroy everything in order to avenge their fallen king! And I will tell her about the consideration and kindness we Dwarves showed when we offered to spare the Elves and asked them to fight by our side to drive away those fowl creatures! And drive them away we did! We cut them down to size and nearly annihilated all of them within minutes before they cowered away and knew never to mess with the Dwarves of Erebor who had finally returned home!" another cheer of agreement erupted, " _And that_ , I will tell her, _Is why it is your honour to become my wife!...if you are indeed female…_ "

And again, they all laughed as Kíli sat back in his chair while those within arm's reach patted his back affectionately. "Wonderful speech, lad!" Dwalin complemented, "We should have you recount it to the Dwarflings in need of a good tale or history lesson!"

"Granted it would solemnly be about our journey and not about the conversation you will have while wooing your future wife." Bofur specified, "I doubt the lads and lasses would care to hear how you would court her."

"I think they would be very much interested." Kíli grinned, "I am _the most interesting_ of the royals!"

"Alright," Fíli cut in, punching his brother's arm softly, "Climb down from your high pony."

"Don't you feel…" Thorin began absent minded but paused. All those who had been quietly chatting quieted down and looked at Thorin, waiting for him to finish, "Don't you feel as though…something – someone is missing?"

All of them exchanged uneasy looks, they obviously agreed with their King, they did feel like someone was missing but they ignored it – something Thorin seemed unable to do – because they knew they wouldn't find an answer. "Well I didn't mention Gandalf much in my interpretation," Kíli pointed out, even if he knew his uncle wasn't referring to the wizard, "And he did have a much more important role than what I stated. Everything I said was actually rather vague, I'm sure if I met my future wife I would go more into detail."

"Yes, perhaps it's just that," Balin agreed.

"Or maybe he's thinking of his mystery man from his dreams." Bofur stated, puffing his pipe. "You've dreamt of him again, didn't you?"

"It seems impossible for me to have a dreamless sleep." Thorin said with a heavy and weary sigh, "I feel as though I've only been dreaming of him from the moment of my birth."

"Maybe these dreams will stop when you find him," Ori suggested optimistically. "You did set in a place a bounty, right?"

"Yes," Thorin answered grimly, "But there has been no news of it thus far. I'm beginning to think I'm going mad."

"Oh, come now," Gloín encouraged, "Dreaming of a man isn't such a horrible thing. Most of our kin marry one without noticing."

"But this one is beardless." Thorin specified, "He's also has pointy ears – like an Elf – but I know he is not one of them."

"I don't think I've ever heard of a being of the likes." Bori considered, stroking his beard.

"Neither have I," chimed Balin.

There was a moment of silence again, this one filled with minds thinking of a mysteriously short man who seemed familiar to all of them but implacable. However, their wandering minds were quickly interrupted with the arrival of a hesitant servant announcing that King Thorin would have to return to his kingly business with his nephews. Quickly, the three royals finished their meals, saluted their friends and made their way to the throne room in which they would listen to the plights of the Dwarves of Erebor and – occasionally – the persistent Elves of Thranduil bent on getting _some amount_ of gold.

As they took their seats and the first dilemma was allowed to be heard, Thorin's mind wandered to the short man. He felt as though he would be able to remember him if he just forced himself to think a little more but every time he seemed to close to achieving the knowledge he desired, someone pulled him out of his train of thought. In this case, the Dwarves demanding for aid regarding their conflicts were the one distracting him from remembering.

And so, as the pile of demands and pleas piled up, Thorin found no time to think about his own quarrels and was more than happy when the last plight of the day was announced. By then the sun that had been shinning high above the sky was now setting in the horizon, painting the sky a familiar orange and rose. To the King's surprise, a Man – not a Dwarf nor an Elf – stepped forward dragging someone astoundingly short. Thorin felt his heart skip a few beats, hoping that it was the being of his dreams but as the Man neared the steps leading to the throne and shoved the Halfling at his feet, his hope faded.

The little man visibly agitated and frightened did meet some of the descriptions Thorin had indicated for the one he sought. He had curly hair resembling the proper colour: auburn, he also had hairy feet and was smaller than a Dwarf yet bore Elf-like ears. Nonetheless, the features of his face were wrong. Even though Thorin couldn't remember the other's face, he knew that the one before him was not he.

"This is regarding the warrant you placed for a mysteriously short man." The Man informed kicking the little Elf-like man closer to the throne, "My name is Signar of Dale and I have accomplished your task thus I request the gold you promised as a reward."

"Your efforts to locate the one I seek are well appreciated," Thorin said slowly with a frown, "However this is not the one I'm looking for."

"Of course it isn't." Signar agreed to the royals' surprise. He kicked the Elf-like man again, "Speak."

"P-please sirs, your Highnesses, your Majesties," he stuttered helplessly, "I'm just a wee hobbit so far away from home! My name is Peregrin Took, please let me go home I—"

"Not your name!" Signar hissed kicking the hobbit, "Tell him about the other hobbit he's looking for!"

"E-eh…?"

Signar was visibly losing his patience and getting much more violent with the small, frail looking creature. "Do not waste our time, hobbit." He hissed venomously.

"Stop it." Fíli interrupted, "You're scaring him! How do you expect him to offer information if he's too terrified to speak!"

"Yeah!" Peregrin agreed, suddenly very confident as he moved closer to the Dwarves, notably Fíli. Suddenly, he dashed towards Fíli and grabbed his hands desperately, his eyes wide with fear as he whispered rapidly to him, "You need to help me! That man is mad! You seem like a nice enough fellow! Get him away from m—"

But poor Peregrin Took couldn't finish his sentence before Signar had gripped the back of his shirt and pulled him off Fíli. "Aye! Don't go fondling royalty!" he schooled kicking the hobbit again.

Peregrin whimpered upon contact which seemed to have been the limit for Fíli who hated seeing others suffer. "Enough," he practically roared as he stood from his throne. "Let him go immediately. You will be given a quarter of the reward because you have not brought back the one King Thorin seeks." He then looked at his uncle with pleading eyes, "If the King agrees with my decision."

Although Thorin was against giving any kind of reward due to the given situation, he consented to it. Signar of Dale didn't seem to be the type to leave without a fight for gold, especially after the work he put in to find such a rare creature. "Yes, give him a quarter of the reward." Thorin permitted to a nearby guard holding a bag of money.

A quarter of the reward Signar of Dale was given, and upon his departure, the three Dwarves stood and lead the hobbit, Peregrin Took, to a more isolated area as to question him. There they fed him for he was horribly hungry, which was something he made excruciatingly evident what with his moaning and groaning, and waited politely until he was ready to speak. "That Signar fellow," Peregrin began as he swallowed the last piece of his bread, "He's rather insane! Personally, I wouldn't let him near this fine mountain, castle…thing you've got here."

"Ha! I like him!" Kíli grinned, charmed by their small guest, "What was your name, Pippin or…?"

"Peregrin Took!" he corrected proudly, "But my friends call me Pippin and since you are kind folk, I'll let you call me as so."

"Master Took," Thorin began, he was tired of waiting after the energetic chap to get his answers. "Signar of Dale told us that you may know about a little man, that seems to be of your kind."

"Ah, yes!" Pippin grinned, "Well, first of all, my kind are called _hobbits_! Not many people know about us and that's the way we like it!"

"Alright, now who is this hobbit I seek?" Thorin asked a little annoyed.

"Before you get angry if I get the wrong answer," Pippin quickly began, he seemed to enjoy beating around the bush, "I told Signar that I _thought_ I knew who he was searching for."

"And who do you think it is?" Thorin nearly growled.

"Back home," he began, "there's a place called Bag End, it's the biggest and greenest hill present where the most luxurious of hobbit holes was built. One day, the owner went on an adventure and everyone knew he wasn't going to come back because leaving home is a dangerous thing! If you don't watch your footing, who knows where you'll end up! Anyway, long story short, it is said he left to Rivendell seeking something – a book maybe since he was an avid reader and an aspiring author – and was never heard from again. It was as if he vanished."

"His name," Thorin demanded, "What was his name?"

"I don't really remember," Pippin admitted sheepishly, "Something Baggins, I think."


	3. The Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I normally wait before uploading a chapter so that the boss can read it first since she inspired (and basically created it - I'm just sowing it with my words) so I normally found that she deserved to be the first to read lol xP But yeah, there's a 14 hour time difference apparently and that's a lot lol! So I decided to take it upon myself and just post this chapter even if I do feel a little morose because she won't necessarily be the first one to read it D:
> 
> I feel like I'm updating every day (because that's technically what I'm doing) but it won't last forever U_U
> 
> Chapter 4 is nearly done and I'm about to begin chapter 5 so yay :D
> 
> Anyways, don't forget to go check out Durch-Leiden-Feude's art for this story (because that's what inspired it in the first place) she also said she was in the mits of something else for this story so yayyyzzz
> 
> Anywho, ENJOY and review and fav if you liked

Bilbo hadn't slept as he had predicted. And though he couldn't tell day from night, he assumed that he still had a few moments to rest before the Contractor would seek him and task him. He slipped out of his bed, wincing at the cold floor beneath his feet. It was odd of him to notice the freezing tiles but he assumed that, wherever he was, things were much different from Middle Earth. He quietly walked towards the door and opened it slightly as to have a glimpse of the dark hallway before venturing forth.

He shuddered at the frosted breeze tickling his bare arms and legs but soon got used to the abnormally cold temperature. Finally, he found a stairwell and descended carefully for the steps were slippery. Then headed away from the tower in which he spent most of his time since it harboured his room and gladly entered the main hall and noticed that the cold tiles were covered by a torn and damp carpet which would shield his feet. He followed it familiarly, eyeing the doors on either side of the walls bordering the rug before stopping in front of the only door labelled with an orb. Then he looked to his right and then to his left, seeing that the Contractor was nowhere in sight, he pushed the door open, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest as it creaked horribly. He eyed both sides of the corridor again before entering the room.

In the center of said room was a large, floating globe which the Contractor had called _the Eye_. He had quickly showed Bilbo how the magikal element functioned and explained to him its purpose. The Eye served as a link to Middle Earth and was often used by the Contractor to spy on specific people for various reasons. Since the instructions were simple, Bilbo had had no difficulty in understanding them and memorizing them. He stood firmly in front of it and thought of the one being he wanted to see: Thorin Oakenshield. He concentrated on the Dwarf King's face, the severe look he always bore and his blue eyes of greater value than any precious gem. He thought of his flowing black hair, virgin of any braids for Thorin had never fancied any other dwarf or being. And then Bilbo thought about how much he would have liked to at least stroke the raven black locks but shook the notion away as he realised he was getting distracted.

When Bilbo dared to open his eyes once more, the Eye was slowly focusing on an image of actuality that had the hobbit smile softly in a moment's notice. The Eye showed him a royal dinning hall plastered with gold, gems and the finest silks serving as decorations. In the center of that room was a large table with fourteen seats; only thirteen of which were presently occupied. Thorin sat at the head of the table. He was dressed marvellously with a gorgeous crown sitting atop his head, and for the longest time, Bilbo could only stare at the Dwarf King.

Eventually, Kíli jumped abruptly on his chair and began boasting about the adventure they had embarked on, gesturing grandiosely and widely things he could express with his hands thus distracting the hobbit. Those around him stared at him with large smiles on their faces and occasionally cheered when one of their greatest exploits were mentioned. Their merriment was enough to liven Bilbo's spirits even if he was trapped in a damp, gloomy, rotting castle. He sat down on the floor, propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands as he continued to watch his friends with great amusement.

He had been so absorbed by Kíli's odd speech which would serve as his best weapon to woo his future wife that he failed to notice the resonating clicks of the Contractor's footsteps nearing. "What are you doing here?" the Contractor interrupted with his normal, eerie voice which scared Bilbo almost as much as the creaking door had. Bilbo turned to face him with great agitation as he clutched his heart, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"I-it's fine…" Bilbo stuttered as his heart calmed.

"I went to your tower but you had left," the Contractor explained nearing the orb and the hobbit, "I guessed that you would have been here, watching over these people."

Bilbo said nothing for he had nothing to say. Instead, he turned his gaze back towards the globe and was surprised to see that Thorin's face was the only thing perceivable for the magikal object had focused on it. He smiled nonetheless at the sight of the one he would have called King if the chance had ever been given to him.

"Love." The Contractor said. He turned to look at Bilbo but the latter could not see his eyes. "You love him."

"I do." Bilbo agreed after a moment, his cheeks taking in a shade of pink.

"And you gave your life away for him and his nephews." The Contractor recapped, "Knowing full well that, one day, they would die again from a different cause."

Bilbo's heart tightened, he didn't like to think about that. "At least…" he began slowly, "at least they got to live a while longer and lead the lives they were meant to direct."

" _Don't you feel…_ " Thorin's voice echoed from the Eye.

Bilbo's heart leapt at the sound of it but the Contractor who had used his magik to erase the image cut his moment of joy short. "Come." He ordered as he began to leave the room. "You have things to do."

The hobbit stared back at the floating globe now producing no figure and reluctantly followed the Contractor out of the room. In the end, he could always review that event of that instance once he would be allowed a break since time didn't seem to have any effect wherever they were.

* * *

"Baggins?" Thorin repeated.

"Yes I believe he was a Baggins." Pippin nodded, "He was also part Took which would also explain why he embarked on the adventure in the first place."

"A _Took_?" Kíli repeated, "What does that have to do with everything?"

"Well, back home we have different respectable families," Pippin explained, "We, the Tooks, are the less respected of the bunch because we tend to go on adventures."

"What's wrong with adventuring?" Fíli asked, now as intrigued as his brother.

"It's a bad thing, risky business like I said before! It'll make you late for supper!" Pippin quoted, he thought he sounded like the elder hobbits always nagging him and his sisters about the dangers of journeying, "Generally, it's not seen as a good thing to leave home—"

"Enough." Thorin interrupted with a booming voice filled with irritation and annoyance, "What else can you tell us about this… _Baggins_?" He wouldn't say it just yet but the name felt horribly familiar.

"U-um…not much," Pippin admitted as he tried to think a little more in depth about the story, "When he vanished, almost all of his things left as well. We thought it might have been a burglar's work but after a short investigation, we learned that no one had entered the house since his departure."

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Kíli questioned.

"By the time the elders got to examining the house after he hadn't shown up for months," the hobbit began, "a rather thick layer of dust covered everything remaining in the house. The ones who opened it didn't dare enter before the more skilled of our lot investigated and told us what most likely happened. They said they found no foot prints anywhere, at the exception of those they made once they entered. It's a rather creepy story. No one has dared to buy the house or go near it since it's believed to be haunted or cursed."

"Do you reckon we could visit this house?" Thorin asked.

"Of course you can, but I doubt you'll have time for it!" Pippin said, "My home is days – no, months away from…wherever this is! You know, when I said that Signar was mad, I meant it. But anyway, you're a very important bunch aren't you? I doubt you could just leave for so long."

"Where exactly do you live?" Thorin asked wearily. Every since the official return of the Dwarves to Erebor, work and duties have only been piling up. If the ride to the abandoned home was truly a journey which would last a month or so, Thorin feared he would have to abandon the answers he sought for so long and continue living with the odd dreams for, potentially, the rest of his life.

"I live in the—" Pippin interrupted himself. He paused and eyed the three Dwarves wearily for the first time since they met. Then, the answer he had been giving turned into a question, "You're not invaders, are you? You won't try to take over my kin's land if I tell you, will you?"

"Of course not," Kíli laughed, "We're heroes, not villains!"

"Heroes?" Pippin repeated in awe.

"Aye!" Kíli grinned, "Let me tell you—"

"Keep your speech for your future wife." Fíli interrupted patting his brother's back. He then turned his attention to the hobbit, "Now where"s your home?"

"I…I live in Hobbiton, in the Shire." Pippin admitted hesitantly, "it's a quaint place, we rarely get any visitors except for Gandalf the Grey during the Mid-summer's festival."

"Gandalf?" Fíli and Kíli exclaimed, both brightening at the mention of the wizard's name.

"You know him?" Pippin asked even if the answer was obvious.

"He helped us retake Erebor from the dragon Smaug." Thorin quickly explained, "But that's a story for another time, I'm sure Kíli will enjoy telling it to you – if I base myself off the enthusiasm he expressed while vaguely recounting it during dinner."

Kíli smirked, "We can do it right now, can't we?" he asked, "Our business with the people is done, is it not?"

Thorin evidently knew that his nephew wished to learn more about the little hobbit that had been thrown at their feet mere moments ago, and, after sparing Fíli a quick glance, he knew that his heir wished to do the same. With a sigh, he allowed his nephews to satisfy their curiosity while he left to learn about the distance separating Erebor from the Shire.

"You really fought a dragon?" Pippin asked with a tone of admiration.

"We didn't _just_ fight a dragon!" Kíli added with boastful pride, "We _slaughtered_ it! Let me tell you—"

Thorin rolled his eyes as he walked away from his nephews and the hobbit. Thus, the King Beneath the Mountain retreated to his study and pulled out many maps which he laid on the floor because his desk was much too small to hold all of them. After careful calculations and studying, Thorin concluded that it would take six months to reach the Shire and six months to return home to Erebor. Since the warrant for the mysterious man – now presumed to be a hobbit – had only been given out six months prior to the given day, Thorin assumed that Pippin had been in the middle of an adventure when Signar of Dale apprehended him. Nonetheless, the Dwarf King concluded that he would be absent for a year and that would be unacceptable for a currently rebuilding his kingdom. Disappointedly, he gathered the maps and stored them away ultimately abandoning his personal quest.

He peered towards his window quickly, guessing that he would soon be called for the evening meal. However, Thorin was rather exhausted and decided to retreat to his chambers and rest until he was summoned. He wondered if he would dream about his hobbit or if the hopelessness attributed to understanding the dreams would have them cease.

* * *

Bilbo was thankful that the Contractor had picked up on his fatigue and allowed him a moment to rest. Because even the Contractor failed in differentiating night from day, he always worked Bilbo until he assumed a day had passed. The work hours were never continuous, sometimes the hobbit felt like his jobs lasted days or weeks whereas, on other occasions, he could have sworn that his task had only lasted a handful of minutes. Though he didn't complain, he assumed that he would eventually grow accustomed to the odd hours.

For now Bilbo was given a breather and he would spend this moment of relaxation with the Eye, watching Thorin and his friends and assuring himself that they were in good health and spirit. He pushed the creaking door open and entered the room, careful to close it upon his entrance for private purposes. Then, he thought of his friend, his King, with all his might until the orb displayed his face. Bilbo smiled, Thorin was sleeping peacefully in his chambers and he wondered if the dwarf was only napping or if it was night in Erebor.

Entranced by the other's sleeping face and his peaceful features, Bilbo stretched out his hand to feel it and was shocked back to reality when his hand grazed the floating globe. The object that he always believed was made of glass or something of the likes strangely rippled under his embrace as if he had just pervaded the stability of calmed water. Intrigued, Bilbo poked it again summoning the same results as the first time but noticing a heavy, indescribable sound echoing once the globe wrinkled. He repeated the gesture a few more times, allowing his fingers to linger longer in the Eye each time before he pushed in his entire hand. Then, he wondered if there was something in the middle and decided to thrust in his entire arm to attempt touching or feeling the answer when he was suddenly pulled into the globe by a magnetic-like force.

Everything unexpectedly went white and Bilbo felt as though he was disappearing all over again.

_When he realised he had closed his eyes, Bilbo opened them and looked around bewildered. There were neither walls nor floors, everything was simply white and Bilbo wondered if he had died even if it was highly improbable. After a moment of merely standing in complete disorientation, he decided to walk in a random direction – ahead. He wasn't sure why but he hoped that, somehow he would find something or someone to tell him where he was and or how to get back – if there was such a thing as going back._

_Finally, prior to an endless moment of wandering, Bilbo spotted a silhouette in the distance. It too seemed as lost as he or so the hobbit concluded by the hesitant steps it was taking in nearly every direction._

" _Hey!" Bilbo yelled. Whatever it was didn't seem to have noticed him. He tried again a bit louder, "Hey! Excuse me! I need help!"_

_The silhouette stopped moving and seemed to be looking in his direction. Slowly, it walked towards him and Bilbo felt compelled to meet it half way. His heart was beating fast and the hobbit only realised then how frightened he was by the whole situation. The feeling was incredibly similar to how he first felt when the Contractor had brought him to the Rotting Castle. Thousands of thoughts raced through his head as he got closer to the silhouette who, in return, was getting bigger and began to resemble a Man, Elf and Dwarf. He wondered if the person was nice or if it wanted to harm him. He considered if he should trust it or if this whole thing – the white realm in which he currently strolled – was something the Contractor was testing with Bilbo as the test subject._

_The thoughts soon ceased as the silhouette before him started to resemble someone Bilbo had thought he lost long ago. It looked a lot like Thorin Oakenshield, King of Erebor. And before Bilbo knew it, he was running towards the other man resembling his King, who seemed as shocked and as surprised as he. Then his running slowed and eventually he stopped when a meter separated he from Thorin because he now knew that the other man was indeed his King._

" _You…" Thorin whispered shocked, "I can…I can finally see your face…"Bilbo didn't answer, he was rather confused and perplexed to hear the other say such a thing. "Why can I see your face? It's normally blurred…"_

" _I don't understand what you're talking about." Bilbo chuckled awkwardly._

" _And this…" Thorin continued, his amazement growing by the second, "this isn't how my dreams normally develop…I can actually speak to you…who are you? Why do you pervade my dreams?"_

" _Pervade?" Bilbo repeated, vexed by the choice of words, "It's not like I try to bother you in your sleep! And what do you mean 'who are you'? How could you have forgotten me?"_

_Thorin seemed confused and dismayed by Bilbo's response and it took him a moment to gather his thoughts. "Your name." he requested, ignoring the hobbit's question, "What is your name?"_

" _Wait…" Bilbo whispered, "You really don't remember me?"_

" _Your name." Thorin insisted. "I need to know your name. Please. Who knows how long I have left before I awake."_

_Bilbo paused assessing what he had just learned. Then he looked Thorin dead in the eyes and said: "My name is B—"_

The Contractor who seemed rather angered by what the hobbit had done pulled Bilbo out of the Eye with brutal force. The Halfling landed on the stone floor heavily with a thud and gasped for air, looking up at the hooded man with great fear and trouble in his eyes. "What were you doing?" The Contractor growled.

"I-I didn't mean to!" Bilbo defended quickly and frantically. "I-I touched it and it rippled and then it–"

"I showed you how to use the Eye out of kindness," he growled grabbing Bilbo's forearm and yanking him to his feet. "And in return you meddle with things beyond your understanding! Come!"

"Wait!" Bilbo pleaded desperately; he tried to stand his ground but failed miserably, "W-why doesn't he remember me?"

"What?" the Contractor asked, stopping for a short moment.

"Thorin. He doesn't remember me. Why?" he asked calmly but his voice was trembling all the same.

The Contractor released his grip and allowed the hobbit to massage his sore arm. "You wanted them back," he explained, "I had to alter the past in order to have them live again. In this new life, Thorin Oakenshield and company have never met you."

"B-but he recognizes me!" Bilbo argued.

The Contractor stared at his servant, perplexed by the new information given, "What do you mean? You just said he didn't remember you."

"When I met with him, he said he saw me in his dreams," Bilbo explained, "but that he never saw my face until now."

The Contractor frowned visibly, "The spell isn't perfect yet." He mumbled practically to himself. "I'll fix it soon enough." He turned to Bilbo and spoke clearly, "Now come."

Without waiting for another word of protest, the Contractor gripped the hobbit's arm again and dragged him away from the orb. "W-where are we going?" Bilbo asked, watching as Thorin's face faded from the Eye's surface.

"I can not allow you to assume that your actions will go without punishment." The Contractor answered, his voice dark, "Not only are you forbidden to enter this room ever again but you must also serve as my test subject until I deem that you've learned your lesson. And trust me, Mister Baggins, these won't be the normal spells you're used to testing."


	4. The Mystery of Baggins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS GURL IS ON FIYAHHHH!
> 
> I actually hate that song.
> 
> Anyways, so far I've been uploading a chapter every day which is weird for me but it stops today, sadly D:
> 
> I haven't begun writing chapter 5 yet or thinking what would take place in it and I have to concentrate on my school work a little so maybe you'll see results next week xD
> 
> Don't forget to go check out Durch-Leiden-Feude's art on DA 
> 
> NOW ENJOY AND REVIEW AND FAV IF YOU LIKED! I love hearing about you :D

_Thorin, confused and dismayed by the hobbit's response, took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Your name." he requested, "What is your name?"_

" _Wait…" the hobbit whispered, troubled by the request, "You really don't remember me?"_

" _Your name." Thorin insisted. "I need to know your name. Please. Who knows how long I have left before I awake."_

_The hobbit paused assessing the situation carefully. Then he looked Thorin dead in the eye and said: "My name is B—"_

Thorin gasped as his eyes opened abruptly and reflexively flinched into a sitting position. Choked by an indescribable emotion, it took him a moment to calm his breathing and notice Fíli, Kíli and Pippin staring at him with wide eyes, next to his bed. "We…" Fíli hesitated slowly, "We came to wake you…"

"Supper is ready." Kíli added.

It still took their king a moment to register the spoken words for his meeting with the hobbit had shocked him something awful. "I saw him…" he finally whispered, almost to himself. He turned his gaze to his nephews, and spoke a tad louder, "I saw him…the hobbit."

"Like you normally do in your dreams…?" Kíli asked as he began to think that his uncle had finally gone mad.

"No," Thorin mumbled, "I spoke with him. He tried telling me his name but…"

The three intruders shared a perplexed look. "But…?" Fíli encouraged.

"But you woke me…" Thorin finished with an air of reproach.

"What was he like?" Pippin asked, unable to repress his curiosity any longer, "What did he look like?"

"Curly auburn hair, pale skin, pointy nose," a smile suddenly spread across the Dwarf King's face, "big blue eyes…I felt as though I was meeting with an old friend…"

" _I'm sorry I doubted you."_

" _Oh…no, I would have doubted me too."_

"I've studied the distance between Erebor and the Shire." Thorin announced after a moment of silence. He pushed off the silk covers and hopped onto the floor, "It's a year's journey there and back again."

"I guess going is out of the question." Kíli concluded disappointedly. During the time spent with Pippin, he had heard plenty of wonderful things about the Shire – specifically about Hobbiton. The hobbit had described it to be a place where the grass was beautifully green, like jade, and bursting with flower-covered hills. It had truly sounded peaceful and upon hearing the majestic description, the young prince had wished to see it.

"Dain is still in Erebor, is he not?" Thorin asked seemingly irrelevantly.

"He is…" Fíli answered slowly.

"Then I will have him govern the kingdom in my stead and personally ride to the Shire." Thorin decided, marching towards his wardrobe and pulling out more comfortable and liberating clothes. "Fíli, find a servant and tell them to prepare ponies and six months worth of provisions. Kíli, warn the others of my plans and send Dain to the stalls."

"I'll be going too, will I not?" Pippin asked, fearful of being left behind.

"Yes, you will show me the way." Thorin stated with a brief nod.

"Uncle, this is madness," Fíli opposed, "You can't just leave Erebor! There's so much to do, so much that needs to be taken in care!"

"Dain is fair of judgement," Thorin said, "I believe he will know what will be best for the kingdom and its people."

"But this is all so sudden!" Kíli argued, and then he paused and smirked; he had evidently thought up something mischievous, "I won't complain any longer if you allow me to accompany you."

"Absolutely not," Thorin refused immediately without hesitation, "You must stay here and learn of your duties!"

"But—"

"No buts!" Thorin interrupted harshly, "Now do as I say. The both of you! And equip the hobbit properly for the journey! I will not have him as dead weight."

The three intruders left to obey Thorin's will uncertainly – Kíli was a little angrier than Fíli due to having been refused to participate in this new adventure. While his nephews hushed the servants to hurriedly ready everything in record time for Thorin's expedition, the latter continued to pack his clothes. There was a sort of melancholy attached to the removal of his crown – he felt as though he was abandoning everything he had worked for and nearly died for even if he knew he would eventually return. Hopefully.

The removal of Thorin's royal clothes was no less morose but was easily overcome by the sight of the old garments he had almost forgotten. His fur cape, blue hood and leather pants beaten and worn by disastrous trials were filled with memories of hardships. They were what Thorin had normally worn when he scouted for members to partake on his quest for Erebor long ago, when it had been taken away from him. He slipped on his memory tainted attires with great satisfaction and decided to dwell a little less on the memoirs that would arise whenever he found anything dating from the past or else he would never leave the confinements of his room.

Finally, he found a bag, stuffed the spare clothing in neatly, and made his way down to the stables where he expected to see the hobbit, a few ponies ready to leave and his cousin Dain. He had taken a considerable amount of time in gathering his attires and trusted weapons thus; he found that the servants would have no excuse for their tardiness – if they were indeed belated. However, to his surprise, not only were the hobbit and ponies ready for travelling but so were thirteen dwarves – two of which had defiant smirks on their faces.

"What are you doing?" the Dwarf King asked unsure about whether he should be pleased or annoyed.

"Come on, lad," Dwalin chuckled, "Don't go assuming we'll let you leave us so quickly. We're in this together."

"Once a company," Bofur smiled, "always a company."

"And let's face it," Kíli grinned, "You didn't honestly think I would attend to my duties in your absence, did you? I miss adventuring, I miss the mountains and the hardships but also the satisfaction that came with achieving a goal set upon a quest."

"And he's not the only one." Ori chimed with a shy smile, "I always thought I would be happy buried in a library, with thousands of books, but I find myself distracted by the memories of journeying."

"Though I'm against abandoning Erebor so early after our return," Fíli began with a smile, "I am _terribly_ bored by the plights of our kingdom's citizens."

"There's also something else we haven't told you," Balin added, stepping forth, "That hobbit, the one you dream about, we dream of him too. Not as frequently as you, but occasionally. If you're going to uncover the truth about him, then we deserve to come along and experience the answer with you."

"I honestly feel as though there is something dreadfully amiss concerning our mysterious hobbit," Oín admitted gravely, "And if my hunch is proper, you will need thirteen mighty dwarves at your side!"

"And don't you dare try to convince us to stay!" Gloín roared, "We're coming with you and that's final!"

Thorin was unable to resist a smile from pursing his lips; he was taken aback by the stubbornness and the willing hearts of his friends and family. After such a long peril, they would still eagerly stay by his side, and upon such a realisation, the Dwarf King truly felt blessed, "I thank you all." He said tranquilly.

"And I expect you to be all the more grateful to me, King Thorin!" Dain stated, his voice coming from behind the former. The King turned to face his cousin, mildly surprised to see him dressed in royal clothing ahead of the news that had yet to be announced to him (though Thorin had a suspicion that Kíli had hurriedly told Dain that he would be king temporarily) but was thankful for his keen heart which rivalled that of his company. "Thanks to you, I have to delay my return to the Ironhills."

"Forgive me." Thorin apologized humbly with a light bow.

"What? Did I sound upset?" Dain laughed, gesturing his King to stand upright, "This place is much livelier than the Ironhills and I fear that my men prefer it here! They'll be asking their wives and friends to move to Erebor in a heartbeat once they learn of our prolonged stay! I'll be ruling over a ghost kingdom once you've return from your long journey!"

Dain's cheeriness caused Thorin to crack a smile. "Thank you, Dain." He thanked, "I will repay you appropriately for this kind act."

"Ah! Enough!" Dain growled, "I thought it would be much more amusing than this to receive a show of gratitude but now you're killing it! Off with you! Go scout that ghost of yours and it better be worth it!"

Thorin nodded and turned to face his company again, they had already mounted their ponies and were ready to leave once their King gave word. "Are the ponies properly prepared?" he verified.

"Aye!" Bori said, "It took us all of the servants in the mountain to have them ready in time, but we managed. All that's left is you."

Thorin nodded and made his way to his pony which he mounted with ease. He found that he too missed adventuring to some extent – notably ridding a pony with which he tended to bond. "Where's the hobbit?" Thorin queried.

"He's with me," Kíli stated moving to the front of the pack, Pippin was sitting directly behind him with a sheepish grin. "He doesn't know how to ride a pony."

"Then I believe it should be time for him to learn," Thorin decided.

"No, no," Pippin refused quickly. He had spoken just before the Dwarf King was about to give a signal to have him move on an individual pony. "These beasts are quite terrifying and I rather have someone with me…"

Kíli laughed noisily at the confession, "Such a frightened fellow!" he commented, "You'd get along nicely with Ori, I would bet!"

"Right," Thorin cleared his voice, and shouted to the servants, "Open the doors!"

And that they did without a moment's hesitation. The large doors leading out of Erebor opened slowly and quite dramatically, revealing the night's landscape. One could spot the merry lights of Dale not too far away. A gust of fresh air was sent their way and they all breathed in the pleasant sent of the wilderness as excitement climbed up their spines provoking a shiver.

"We're off." Thorin stated to his cousin who was steadily growing impatient.

"Of course you are." Dain grumbled, "Now off with you! Shoo I say! Quite dallying!"

And with a final smile in his direction, Thorin kicked his pony and steered it out of Erebor feeling rather excited to be on the road once more – a feeling he never expected to have. They rode all night, never stopping to rest due to Thorin's choice of departing at such a late time and only stopped at noon of the next day when none could stand Pippin's complain for food any longer. They stopped next to a path bordering Mirkwood and were intercepted quite a few times by Elves requesting gold on Thranduil's behalf but, luckily, Dwalin chased them away in no time.

Once they had regained their strength and Pippin's belly was quite full, they began their journey around the Elven woods for they knew that even if the path was shorter through Mirkwood, Thranduil would inevitably try something if they dared attempt it. Thus they circled the woods, merrily singing and chatting loudly for they had no need to fear attacks from goblins and orcs because their kinds had significantly dropped in number. Along the way, Pippin had also proven himself a joyous fellow with thousands of amusing stories of mischief concerning himself and his best friend Merry. Actually, the company always laughed loudest whenever he recounted a tale with a comedic end.

When the journey around Mirkwood was ending and when the Misty Mountains were in sight, Balin had noticed that they were not too far from Beorn's home and managed to convince Thorin to stop by for a quick greeting. There they were greeted warmly and Beorn also admitted to having followed them for a part of their journey around the Elven forest. And before their departure, the large bear of a man also offered them supplementary provisions since theirs were dwindling what with Bombur's and Pippin's horribly large appetite.

With a friendly adieu and hopes of good will, they continued their journey through the Misty Mountains which had quickly become the most unpleasant part of their voyage. Cold rain and rough winds challenged them at every turn and at some point Ori's pony nearly fell from the narrow ridge to its doom along with its rider. Luckily, regardless of the harsh conditions, the party managed to escape any serious casualty by the end of their trail through the treacherous mountains.

It was as they were wandering through a forest filled with thick greenery, months prior to their departure from Erebor that a notion resurfaced in Pippin.

"How long since we've left Erebor?" Pippin asked, he was now ridding with Bofur.

"Oh, I'd say near fourth months now." Bofur guessed.

"And we're currently in the month of April, right?" Pippin continued.

"Yes," Balin, who was ridding next to them, answered, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, by the time we get to the Shire it should be the Mid-summer's festival." Pippin explained, "Which means that you will have a chance to see Gandalf – if we don't arrive later than the festival that is."

"Gandalf?" Balin asked pleasantly surprised, "What would he be doing in a hobbit village during the mid of summer?"

"He participates in the festival, of course!" Pippin answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "He's normally the center of the celebration what with his amazing fireworks! Oh I hope we don't miss them! They are truly magnificent!"

"Fireworks, eh?" Fíli mumbled, "Don't reckon I've ever seen one of those."

"You haven't?" Pippin asked appalled, "Where have you been in the last decade?"

"Fighting for our home, mostly," Bofur laughed merrily.

"Well they're absolutely amazing!" Pippin said with great enthusiasm, "They make a loud sound that is quite unpleasant at times, but the beauty of the colours just raining down—"

"We know what they are!" Kíli chuckled, "We just haven't seen them before! They're explosions in the sky!"

"They're not _just_ fireworks!" Pippin stated as if the young dwarf prince was an imbecile, "Gandalf's fireworks come to _life_! I remember once, Merry and I snuck into the tents were he stored them. We stole the biggest one we could find – shaped like a dragon! The we lit it but forgot to plant it! In a fit of panic we just tossed it around until it finally exploded and shot towards the sky along with the tent! Then it exploded again and the colours were beautiful, we had thought it was rather dull until the sparks took the shape of a dragon and came hurling down towards the festival's festivities! Luckily, Gandalf used his magik to throw it off but we weren't so lucky when he found us…"

The company laughed loudly by the end of the story, "You troublemaker!" Dwalin chuckled, "What did the old man have you do?"

"The dishes mostly," Pippin answered with a shudder, "You might think it to be a simple punishment but if you saw just how much the people of Hobbiton ate that year during the festival, you would have wept at the workload!"

And thus, with the new information and chain of humorous stories, the company doubled its speed as to assure their arrival in Hobbiton before the festival. However, this sadly meant less time to eat for Bombur and Pippin who mourned the loss of food together. On the bright side, the cut in time reserved for eating proved fruitful for, two months later; they stumbled into Hobbiton with three days to spare before the Mid-summer festival.

There Pippin guided the thirteen Dwarves to the Green Dragon inn where they could rent rooms until they were ready to leave again. Then, Pippin returned to his family and friends who had already finished mourning him for they had assumed he was dead. Nonetheless, before leaving, Pippin had given Thorin the directions to Bag End where he would undoubtedly find more answers concerning the mysterious Baggins.

Thorin had only decided to investigate Bag End a day before the festival due to wanting time to relax after their long journey. During then, he drank and ate to his fill along with his valued company. And it was only when they were all passed out on the inn's floor in the afternoon, that Thorin travelled alone towards the abandoned home. He had gotten lost twice along the way but eventually found his way with the help of the locals who didn't fail to warn him about the curse set upon the home.

Bag End was surprisingly eerie but Thorin deemed it normal considering that the house had not been tended to for a long time. The flowers decorating the outside of the house were dead and rotten whereas the green of the grass covering the home had yellowed grotesquely. He pushed his way pass the petit door in the fence that would have been rather cute if it wouldn't have been for the large cobwebs and the sinister screech it made when it was finally used.

Thorin made his way to the round, green door worn by time and pushed it open revealing a sight similar to what Pippin had first described back in Erebor. The inside of the house was dim, lifeless and covered with a thick layer of dust. The corners of the ceiling were littered with large webs which bore at least ten spiders each – minimum – and caused a shudder to crawl up the Dwarf King's spine. He ventured forth, surprised by how loud his steps echoed through the vacant home, and investigated every room.

As Pippin had said, the home was lacking in furniture and ornaments where they should have been present. In those mentioned places, Thorin had noticed that the layer of dust was thinner thus it was understandable why one would assume a burglar was the cause of the home's emptiness. However, upon a more precise inspection, the Dwarf King noticed that there were no scratches on the floor made by heavy furniture. It was doubtful to assume that the burglar who had penetrated the homestead had been strong enough to quietly lift the fittings and make way with them without anyone notice hence the idea was rebutted. It was as Thorin explored Bag End further that he noticed only one room was excluded from the lifelessness and desolation: the study room. It contained a desk littered with dust-covered papers and a chair that had once seen better days. But what had captivated the Dwarf King's eyes the most was the red leather book left as a display on the bureau.

Carefully treading towards it, Thorin dusted the leather cover, an action which revealed golden letters labelling the piece of literature. " _There and Back Again_ ," Thorin read slowly, " _A Hobbit's tale_."

He was disappointed that the author had failed to sign his name but opened the book curiously and skimmed over the pages quickly when, suddenly, he thought he saw his name. Turning a few pages back and he read a passage. " _As I hid in my room, wondering why oh why I had allowed Gandalf to talk me into accepting the Dwarves in my house, Thorin Oakenshield's familiar voice suddenly resonated loudly through the halls of my home._ " Thorin read rapidly beneath his breathe, " _He had engaged in song. At first, I wanted to stop this racket he was encouraging but the melancholy present in his voice had me stop the thought and listen carefully as he mourned the loss of his home through song. Even now I still remember those lyrics and the deep rumbling of his enchanting voice. He sang: Far over the Misty Mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old, We must away 'ere break of day, To seek our pale enchanted gold._ "

The song inevitably continued but Thorin stopped reading it quickly as he flipped through the pages. How was it that this stranger of the Baggins family knew of their quest for the Lonely Mountain and even wrote a book depicting it? None of it made sense because Thorin couldn't remember any of it, yet everything written was horribly familiar and had appeared to him in the form of a dream.

Unable to contain himself, the Dwarf King skipped to the end of the book wanting to know how the hobbit had finished the tale. " _Upon entering the tent in which I was told Thorin laid, my heart clenched horribly as I expected the worst._ " Thorin mumbled as his eyes scanned the sentences, " _And when I did see him lying in a bloodied bed, I knew that my time with him would be short. Judging by the look in his eyes once he noticed me, he knew the same as I._ Farewell, good thief, _he whispered to me,_ I go now to the halls where I will revisit my kin and stand by them until the world is renewed. And before I go, I wish to part with you in friendship. I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell… _I couldn't contain the tears that poured down my face,_ Farewell, Thorin King Under the Mountain… _And whether you believe it or not, I isolated myself and wept until my eyes were red and my voice hoarse._ "

Thorin froze while reading those words; his heart thudded heavily with anger and confusion. He was angry that the writer had dared to write a version of the story in which he died and was confused for the same reason. He tossed the book angrily and, almost as if it were fate, the pages flipped open to the introduction page of the book. Thorin peaked quickly and stopped himself when he noticed the word _Baggins_.

" _There and Back Again, a Hobbit's tale_." Thorin reread quickly, slowing at the name. " _Written by Bilbo Baggins_ "

"But who is Bilbo Baggins?" an old voice asked from the room's frame.

Thorin spun around to meet its owner, "Gandalf!" he exclaimed.

The timeworn wizard wandered into the room with a fox-like smile plastering his face, "Good to see you again, my King," he mock bowed with embellished courtesy.

"What are you doing here?" Thorin asked, "We weren't expecting you until tomorrow."

"When I heard that thirteen Dwarves had been terrorizing the hobbits of Hobbiton and took over the Green Dragon two days ago," Gandalf began with a chuckle, "I felt the need to take a look. I'm surprised that you would wander so far away from Erebor after so recently returning to the throne."

"Troubling dreams have brought me to where I am presently." Thorin explained vaguely.

"Dreams concerning Bilbo Baggins." Gandalf specified as if he had peered into the Dwarf King's mind for the information, "So I too have not been the only one afflicted by them…"

"They seem to be visions of a different past…" Thorin mused, then he gestured the book, "a different past that seems to be recorded in this book."

"And yet our memories would suggest that the book is spewing lies." Gandalf agreed, "However, I believe that it dictates the truth."

"Why would you say that?" Thorin asked, anger rising in his tone, "I'm still alive. This book can not be telling the truth, I am the proof."

"Thorin Oakenshield, do not underestimate the potential of magik." The old wizard warned wearily, "with a willing heart and a magik key, anything is possible."

"Is there such thing as magik powerful enough to alter the past?" the Dwarf King queried.

"Perhaps," Gandalf guessed, "It is not _improbable_ thus I should assume it to be _probable_. The important question is where would the knowledge for such a thing reside if it indeed exists?"

"I don't know…" Thorin mumbled defeated.

"Luckily I do." Gandalf smirked, "The Elves would be the only ones with recorded knowledge of the history of such a powerful magik. Elrond's library would, specifically, be the location in which we could find it."

"You won't find me seeking help from the Elves." Thorin scoffed.

"You will if you want to know what happened to Bilbo Baggins and if the past he speaks of in that book is in fact the truth." Gandalf warned, "You have two days to decide whether you follow me to Rivendell or not."


	5. Elrond's Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo boss! Where you at? I barely get news from you anymore lol! xD
> 
> Anyways, I think I'm doing pretty good for someone who's not updating on a daily basis anymore though I don't think I'll have the next chapter out by next week because I'm so short on time (probably karma because I procrastinated for so long - I REGRET NOTHING)
> 
> But yea, ENJOY!!! Review and fav (or kudos apparently) if you liked :D I love hearing from you xP

His body ached horribly. Not only had the spells been brutal and had potentially broken every single one in his bone, but the Contractor had cut him open to evaluate the results. Bilbo had been awake the whole time. He was forced to watch as his master plunged a dagger into his chest and dragged it down, all the way to his abdomen, great quantities of crimson spilling messily from the wound. His arms had been cut open, his muscles had been probed, his insides had been removed, replaced and removed again, blood had clogged his throat and lungs multiple times, internally drowning him, and yet he lived. Though he had screeched and struggled as best as he could to stop the pain, the straps restraining him to a table had obliged him to endure. And Bilbo wondered how it was possible after witnessing his insides being torn from his body and inspected thoroughly that he was still alive.

"As long as I live," the Contractor had briefly explained during the torture, "None in my home shall die."

How dearly Bilbo had then wished that he would be an exception to the statement but his soberness and lack of faintness informed that he wasn't. And he hated it. Now cradled in his room, he studied his body for scars which had been erased by the Contractor. The latter had claimed he preferred his test subjects to be free from any scars when he performed his experiments. "I do hope you've learned what comes of sneakiness." He had also added as he politely brushed his servant away.

And Bilbo would never forget the price that came with accidently discovering something unmeant for his eyes under the Contractor's rule. However, the former couldn't help but ponder about the various scenarios that could potentially happen if he were to use the Eye again to speak to Thorin.

 _I could tell him I love him…_ Bilbo thought with a blush but shook the thought away and dove onto his bed, _No! That's just odd! He doesn't remember me and would ultimately reject me! Maybe if I had a beard—stop it Bilbo!_

Sighing and hugging his pillow which smelled of mold and mildew, the hobbit tried thinking of a happy moment in a no longer existent past. He thought of the first time he had met all of his friends and how displeased he had been by their unexpected arrival. With those chaotic memories running through his head, Bilbo closed his eyes and attempted to sleep.

"Mister Baggins." The Contractor called from the door of the hobbit's room. Bilbo opened his eyes, abandoning his blissful daydreaming, and focused on the man before him, "You've rested enough. It is time to resume your duties as my servant."

"But you've just sent me off on a break." Bilbo stated feebly.

"I have?" the Contractor asked perplexed, "No matter. I have need of your assistance. You may resume your resting later."

Reluctantly, Bilbo pushed himself from his bed and followed the Contractor through the damp corridors. They seemed to be even more wet and cold than earlier. They crossed the kitchen which the Halfling had rarely visited since the beginning of his stay and wandered into the slaughter room. The stones and tables were all covered with blood and discarded members – save for one which contained the body of a small being though it was bigger than Bilbo himself. Upon closer inspection, he came to the horrific conclusion that a dead dwarf was lying on the bloodied table, vacant eyes piercing through Bilbo's soul. However, what bothered the hobbit most of all was the striking resemblance the dead dwarf bore to Thorin.

"Here." The Contractor said as he shoved a butcher's knife in his servant's tiny hands, "I need you to cut off his limbs and that includes severing the head. All I want left is the torso. Then, once your task is accomplished, put the limbs in the large jars of oil for preservation purposes and skin what's left of the corpse."

Bilbo's eyes widened at the mention of the order, he felt as though he was about to murder his King even if he knew he was well and alive in Middle Earth. He desperately looked to the Contractor for any sign of a horrible joke but, instead, the man seemed to be pensive as he observed Bilbo. Gulping heavily, he stepped towards the corpse and stripped it of its clothes before hesitantly raising the knife to its neck.

"Start with the arms and legs." The Contractor interrupted before the hesitant blow could be delivered.

Bilbo had wanted to cry but forced himself not to. With a shaky nod he moved his aim to the left arm first, and readied his trembling grip. He forced himself to take deep breaths and not think of the late dwarf as his King but the physical resemblance was too much for Bilbo's poor heart and Thorin was all he could see. Clenching his eyes shut tightly as to keep in the tears that threatened to spill and as not to witness what was about to be done, the hobbit yelled loudly as he brought down the blade as hard as he could. Sadly, the strength of the swing hadn't been sufficient enough to slice off the arm on the first try. This caused something to snap in the Halfling's feeble mind. Blinded by an inexplicable feeling that was closer to pain than anything, Bilbo swung the knife down repeatedly on the same general area he had the first time, screeching madly as blood splattered left and right, pervading everything with a sickening red.

"Enough." The Contractor interrupted after a moment of observation. Bilbo stopped on command, breathing heavily but not daring to open his eyes, "The arm has been severed and part of the upper left side of the torso has been mutilated. It is of no further use to me. You may burn it."

Bilbo nodded absently, his body was quivering horribly. He wiped at the blood that had tainted his face and stared at the palm of his hand with horror and disgust. Then his gaze wavered to the partially disfigured dwarf's corpse, for some reason his face was petrified in an expression of pure agony as if he had suffered from Bilbo's frantic blows. That same idea had his heart throb painfully.

He whispered apologetic words to the dead dwarf and carefully picked up the corpse as best he could for it was heavier than him when – "His head." The Contractor mumbled, "I want his head."

"Y…you said you had no further use of him…" Bilbo whispered, his voice cracking what with the strain of the mental torture.

"His head will be speared alongside the other ones bordering the castle." The Contractor explained coolly as if there was nothing inhumane about what he was admitting to, "You will be able to go admire it, if you wish."

"…alright…" Bilbo muttered, he knew better than to try arguing with the fellow. Granted, he had never tried it before but he assumed that if he managed to anger the Contractor, he would suffer another horrid punishment – potentially worse than what he endured after learning more about the Eye without permission.

He placed the corpse back on the table, careful to expose the neck properly, then moved closer to it. He readied his blow as he did for the arm but quickly stroked the stranger's cold cheek for all Bilbo could now see was the face of his King. "I'm so sorry…" he whispered before quickly raising the knife high above his head and swinging it back down hard. The head fell to the ground with a thick smack and the nauseating splash of gallons of dense blood. Bilbo dropped the knife he once held as to show that he would no longer cut anything from the dead dwarf and gestured to pick up the body again when the Contractor interrupted his actions once more.

"Bring me the head." He ordered sternly.

The hobbit glanced in the sought object's direction, and swallowed heavily as his fingers reached for it, curling themselves in the long black locks. He held it preciously and cradled it against his chest before handing it to the Contractor.

"Who do you see, Bilbo?" he asked quietly.

Bilbo stared at the head for a long moment and though he tried to force himself to see the real face of the dwarf, all he could see was Thorin. "My King." He answered after a long moment of silence.

"And what if I were to tell you this was your King?" the Contractor asked; the question was hypothetical of course, but that was an unknown fact to poor Bilbo Baggins who began crying immediately. Large tears poured down his crimson stained cheeks yet his face remained perfectly plain due to shock. Eventually, the Contractor ventured forth and repeated his earlier movement of cleaning the fallen tears from his servant's face with practiced care, "I'm sorry," he whispered, "If I have told you this lie, it was to cause you chagrin. I wanted to see your crying face again."

"W-why?" Bilbo asked confused.

"I'm not sure." The Contractor admitted, "I just knew that I missed the sensation that came from cleaning a fallen tear from your cheek." Then he leaned forth and kissed the hobbit's forehead gently, "I fear you're changing me, Mister Baggins."

And Bilbo wasn't sure whether the mentioned statement was of good or bad nature.

* * *

The company had been rather vexed when they learned that Thorin had gone investigating Bag End on his own, leaving them with painful hangovers on the floors of the Green Dragon but rejoiced at the sight of Gandalf. They crowded around him merrily, wanting to learn all about the adventures he had partaken in during their separation after the Battle of Five armies.

"My good Dwarves," he said with a chuckle, "do take a seat as I fill your curiosity to the brim with my fantastic tales!"

And so he told them everything he could about the many things he had done. He had hinted to searching for a specific Ring but his friends had not heard of its likes – Gandalf wasn't sure if he should have been discouraged or not. Nonetheless, he told them about the stern talking to he had gotten from the White Council after disobeying orders and doing what he had presumed was right. Finally, he finished with the dreams of Bilbo Baggins – a man who's link to them was still unknown. Upon the hobbit's mention, Thorin pulled out the red leathered book and allowed it to circulate as he described what contents laid within the pages.

"Impossible!" Ori exclaimed handing the book to his brother Dori, "The three of you are still here!"

"Aye," Bofur agreed, "Plus we've lived the adventure together, how can that book contain the truth?"

"Gandalf speculated of magik powerful enough to alter the tides of the past." Thorin repeated calmly.

"It's odd." Balin mumbled beneath his breath, "I have a familiar feeling of melancholy upon reading these words…"

"Well how do you suppose one _not_ feel so morose when reading about the deaths of those they love?" Dwalin growled.

"There must have been a great price to pay if the past was indeed reconstructed." Dori stated offering the book to Kíli who refused it, then to Fíli who reluctantly accepted it, "As far as I can tell, Hobbits aren't necessarily creatures with the potential for magik. He must have found a powerful wizard or something of the likes and paid a great price to bring you back."

"But why would he do such a thing?" Kíli sighed, "If this indeed is the truth."

"Oh, he wrote it." Fíli concluded. "I suppose you all missed it."

"What does it say?" Gloín queried.

" _If all I have to do is give my life to the darkest of lords to bring them back,_ " the dwarf prince read, " _Then I would do it now and again. As many times as needed. I would have them live proper, joyous lives because that is the least of what they deserve._ "

"So he did it out of duty." Oín concluded.

"Not necessarily," Gandalf stated, "If you take the time to read the recollection carefully—"

"Hold on," Thorin interrupted, " _read_? You speak as though you've already done so."

"It is because I have," the Wizard replied and proceeded to answer the next upcoming question, "A Wizard leaves no trace of where he has been and of what he has done if he fears being followed."

"Oh…"

"Now, as I was saying," Gandalf continued, "You will see that Bilbo Baggins is a very observant and polite person with a sense of loyalty. However, more than that, you will discover that he holds special feelings for our three Dwarven royalties – notably King Thorin of Erebor."

"Me?" Thorin sputtered shocked.

"Yes," Gandalf confirmed, "I believe you read one of the final passages in which he depicts your final conversation with him. Prior to your last words, he states that he isolated himself and cried horribly until there were no more tears to be shed. And even then, it says that he took a long year to officially begin to accept your death but, as we can assume, he never finished mourning. Instead he found himself drawn to a dark lord powerful enough to bring back the dead and change the past."

"Heh, if we find this Bilbo Baggins," Kíli began with a chuckle, "Perhaps he can become uncle's wife. They seem like they would be a perfect match."

Thorin glared at his nephew for his unnecessary comment, "We'll most likely find him dead if Gandalf's hypothesis is true." He schooled, "As Dori said, a heavy price must have been paid and said price would have most likely been his life."

"Indeed but we will not know of Bilbo Baggins' fate if we do not investigate the matter further." Gandalf stated.

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Bombur asked, he had somehow found bread and was currently stuffing his face with it. "We have no lead."

"That's not entirely true…" Thorin corrected.

"Yes, rumour has it that Bilbo Baggins left for Rivendell before his disappearance." Gandalf explained, "And the only place where recorded knowledge of the powerful magik we mentioned could ever be held is that same Elf city. In two days I will be making my way to Rivendell with or without you to pursue the truth, Thorin seems a little more hesitant to follow suit."

"Come on, uncle!" Fíli sighed closing the red book and tucking it on his lap, "After this long journey, are you really going to abandon the answers you sought because of Elves? How angry do you suppose Dain would be if you returned empty handed?"

Thorin supposed that his cousin would be rather enraged, nonetheless his decision wouldn't change. "I was going to follow that damned wizard to Rivendell even if it did mean asking the Elves for help." Thorin grumbled angrily, as he stomped away from the group.

"There you have it, fellow companions!" Gandalf declared joyfully, "We will be headed to Rivendell together in two days! Until then, enjoy the Mid-Summer's festival with the hobbits of Hobbiton!"

And enjoy the festival they did. Upon the following day's sunrise, Hobbiton was as filled with life as any big city of Dwarf or Man. They ran left and right carrying big baskets of food which they brought to the tables surrounding the Party Tree. There they set up games and food stalls for the young hobbit lads and lasses to enjoy while the older ones drank and ate to their filling. Feeling as though they deserved to repay their stay's worth with more than gold, Thorin ordered his company to partake in the preparations of the festivities. Thus they began to lift and carry ten times the weight the stronger hobbits could carry ultimately impressing them and regaining their favour. Without knowing, the Dwarves of Erebor had given themselves an ugly name due to the ruckus they continuously caused in the Green Dragon.

Finally, the sun set, the preparations finished and all of the hobbits of Hobbiton and beyond travelled to the Party Tree where they began the celebration. Quickly pints of finely brewed ale and beer were shoved in their hands and food was seemingly placed in their mouths just as quickly. They joined the others shortly in dance and song though they knew none of the words but improvised joyously. Thorin had been the only one weary of the things offered to him because he was the only one who remembered they were on a journey and not on vacation. Nonetheless he did still enjoy the festival as best as one could and marvelled in delight at the sight of Gandalf's grandiose fireworks. They were as amazing as Pippin had described them to be and Fíli and Kíli seemed to appreciate the sight almost as dearly.

"Those were amazing Gandalf!" Kíli exclaimed excitedly, it was as though he was a child all over again. And his brother was no better.

"Yes! Who knew explosions could be so wonderful?" Fíli chimed, "I could make do without the deafening sound though."

"Of course," Gandalf agreed, "But it is a small price to pay if it means to see something so beautiful—"

The old wizard had barely finished his sentence when the familiar whistling of a rocket shooting towards the sky caught their attention. They gaped at it incredulously and it had taken Gandalf a moment too long to understand what had just happened. The firework exploded green and from the falling emeralds, the shape of a troll was drawn. Suddenly, it came to life and hurled towards the celebration, swinging its sparkling bat over its head. In a moments noticed, Gandalf had cleverly used magik to counter the dangerous firework and have it seem as though all of it was planned.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took!" the Grey wizard roared loudly as he stomped towards the tents, "Have you learned nothing of the disasters you both caused the previous year when you meddled with my affairs!?"

Needless to say that the mischievous hobbits' punishment had been much worse than cleaning hoards of dirty dishes.

Then, when the show was done and most of the hobbits had retreated to their home for a goodnight's rest while the less tired ones remained to begin cleaning at a slow pace, the thirteen dwarves retired to the Green Dragon where they would rest comfortably before beginning preparations for Rivendell. The hobbits were most helpful with said preparation and Thorin wasn't sure whether it was because they simply wanted to be of aid or if they desperately wanted them gone. Gandalf had suggested it was a bit of both.

The restocking of necessary goods and the polishing of blades that had yet to be used had taken all day. They had paid the inn-keeper one last time that day to allow a prolonged stay with meals and beds. The next day, in the wee hours of the morning, the group had left quietly for a band of dwarfs leaving a generous tip for their overly exhausted host. They jumped on their ponies (and Gandalf on his horse) and rode away, following the Grey wizard through the Shire's hills and forests.

Once they were well away, they began singing songs and chatting loudly as if to make up for the quietness they had to exact in the bygone morning in presence of the hobbits. Or so Thorin reckoned. But the Dwarf King didn't mind their loudness because he was accustomed to it; he merely feared that it would attract those bold enough to attempt scavenging them. And, of course, it did. They were assaulted by six orcs that had thought themselves to be a match for thirteen dwarves and a wizard. They were greatly mistaken and cut down immediately. Then the company rested for the day and continued their journey on the dawn of the following morning.

They arrived in Rivendell a fortnight later expected by the Elves even if they had sent no warning letter to Elrond. Gandalf later explained that the Elven lord had the powers of foresight and most likely saw them coming long before it was planned. They were given an immediate audience with the lord of Rivendell who was immediately intrigued.

"Though I have foreseen your arrival, King Thorin son of Thrain," Elrond began, "The reason for this journey to my homely home eludes me."

"We've come for research purposes." Gandalf explained quickly before the Dwarf King could say something rude. "Do you suppose we may browse through your library?"

"May I ask what you intend to research?" The Elf lord asked sceptically.

"We seek knowledge about the eldest and most powerful magik known to the world," Gandalf answered wisely, careful not to reveal much of their plight for he knew that Thorin didn't enjoy the meddling of others – specifically that of Elves. "Am I wrong to believe that such information would reside here?"

"No…" Elrond said slowly, "You are a great friend to the Elf people, _Mithrandir_ , however I'm afraid that I can not grant you access to my collection of books at the moment."

"Why not!?" Thorin snapped.

"For one thing," Elrond began calmly, "You Dwarves have a tendency to be violent with the things dropped into your hands. Some of these books are as old as time itself and would crumble to dust if one were to so as twitch unexpectedly. Based off the last time you visited my homely home, you clearly lacked care with your touch."

"You don't understand!" Kíli begged, "We need to look through your books!"

"Why is your urge so desperate?" Elrond hummed.

And before any of the elder Dwarves could stop him, Ori blurted out: "We're searching for answers about Bilbo Baggins!"

"Bilbo Baggins?" Elrond repeated intrigued while the nearby Dwarves smacked Ori for revealing their quest, "If I'm not mistaken, Baggins is one of the many hobbit families in the Shire, is it not?"

"It is." Gandalf confirmed.

"And why is it you seek answers about such a creature?" The Elf Lord continued to question, "If anything, it would have been wiser to search in their own repertoire."

The Grey wizard turned to Thorin who was fuming with frustration before deciding on his next course of action, "I fear we can no longer keep him in the dark, old friend." He sighed before returning his attention to the expectant Elf, "We can not go to the hobbits for further assistance because they've already told us everything they knew about Mister Baggins. The story goes as follow; keeper of the grandest home of Hobbiton named Bag End, he upped and left one day to Rivendell. Some believe he was in search of a book."

"And you've come looking for this book to discover his fate?" Elrond guessed knowingly.

"We have." Thorin confirmed through gritted teeth.

"Your honesty shall be repaid with my own," Elrond declared calmly, "I forget how many moons ago, but a hobbit did indeed travel here to my homely home requesting to browse through my books. Though I do not remember his face or his name, I knew him to be a greatly respected friend of Elves and allowed him access to my library. He stayed isolated in my collection of books for quite some time – or so it seemed – for when I sent my kin to see to him, he had disappeared."

"How odd," Gandalf commented, "It's not like you to forget a name and a face."

"Indeed," Elrond mused, "We believe that foul magik is at play."

"It is also what we believe," Gandalf admitted, "We believe that Bilbo Baggins has found a book containing secrets to accessing powerful magik – a magik so potent that it could alter the past significantly."

"And what past in question are we referring to?" Elrond queried.

The old wizard gestured for the red book which was then handed to the Elf lord who immediately began to flip through the pages. "A past in which Bilbo Baggins grows greatly attached to the King Beneath the Mountain and his nephews," Gandalf answered slowly, "and is ready to give away his life if it means to bring them back."

After briefly reading the final passages, Elrond closed the book and handed it back to the dwarf that had first lent it to him. "I'm afraid I will still not grant you access to my library," he said to the dismay and anger of his shorter guests. "Because black magik is most likely the cause of everything that has happened thus far concerning Bilbo Baggins, there might be dangers bordering every shelf at every turn. In order to protect what legacies we have left and to rid the evil that has pervaded Rivendell, none other than experienced Elves shall enter my library to dispel its curse. I'm sorry to have abruptly ended your quest here but I will not risk anyone's safety, notably yours, King Thorin of Erebor."

"Rubbish!" Thorin snapped, "We've travelled for six month and a bit more to find our answers and you refuse us access to them! You Elves are nothing but scum bent on bringing misery to every dwarf you come across! You always have!"

"Even if our kinds have not always seen eye to eye," Elrond began, a hint of irritation in his normally serene voice, "I assure you that those past quarrels have nothing to do with my decisions! Have I not previously helped you when you needed to take back Erebor from Smaug the Terrible?"

"Have you forgotten that you tried to keep my company and I away from our goal?" he rebutted quickly.

"Enough!" Gandalf interrupted, "You will cease this pointless and irritating squabble at once." He turned to Elrond, "We understand your decision and will argue it no longer. However, we have travelled a great distance and would appreciate your hospitality for a few days in order to regain strength before our departure."

There was a moment of silence before Elrond agreed to tending to them; of course the dwarves immediately protested the decision claiming that they would not return to Erebor empty handed. However, Gandalf soon calmed the unnerved group and hushed them away. When they were finally isolated from unwanted ears, Gandalf hurriedly explained his plan.

"During supper, you best eat quickly," Gandalf whispered out of caution, "I will distract Elrond with conversation while you investigate the library. I trust that you will use great stealth and quiet when you sneak otherwise my plan will have been for naught! Understood?"

When they all nodded and promised to be as quiet as a dwarf could be, Gandalf recited the way to the library to each and every one of them personally until he was confident they wouldn't forget. Then, a few hours later, after they settled their things and made themselves comfortable, the Elf-servants called them to supper. Quickly the dwarves made a show, complaining about the colour of the food and lack of meat and before long, they had all left the table in exaggerated fits of anger. Elrond supposed it was due to being refused their answers that they acted as so and Gandalf encouraged the thought (even though it was false) for he wished to give his friends more time to search.

Thus the dwarves led by their King wandered the halls of Elrond's homely home in search of the library, following the path they were described. As expected, there were guards posted at the entrance of the library but that problem was soon dealt with by the dwarves who allowed themselves to be a little louder and knock out the posted Elves. Then they hid their unconscious bodies within the library and frantically began searching for anything that could hold the information they sought.

"Look here," Ori called moments after they had entered the book-filled room. They all joined him, "There are some writings on the floor," he said pointing at a pentagram, "I believe this is where it happened."

"So Gandalf's hunch was right," Balin concluded wearily, "What is written in that book is the truth."

"We haven't yet found the book of sorcery." Thorin objected immediately even though he knew it was just a mere matter of moments before they did find it.

And around the given area they searched, careful not to destroy any books in the process for they were determined to prove to Elrond that they could be cautious with precious texts of old. It came to no surprise to anyone when, after a few more short moments, Ori called them over declaring that he had just found the manuscript. He handed it to Thorin who studied the cover carefully. The hard cover that was painted black wrinkled with age and had a sandy texture to it. Carefully, he dusted it in order to reveal the letters labelling the work – however, no print or signs of print once seemed to pave the book.

"Odd," Thorin concluded, "It bears no title."

"Perhaps it was erased by time?" Dwalin suggested.

"I doubt it," Ori commented, he knew books well and wasn't afraid to display it, "There are normally faint markings on a book which once bore a title and though time has wrinkled it, it hasn't erased anything that once covered it. This book never bore a name."

"Then how do you know it's the one?" Kíli asked curiously.

"Because it has no name." Ori answered.

"Well there really is only one way to truly know if this is what we're looking for or not." Thorin stated as he gently opened the book. His eyes widened, "This…"


	6. The Outcome of a Different past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so before I start by saying what I want to say in regards of this chapter, I'm going to begin with the word magik. I wanted to inform people about this for a while but I kept forgetting so I'm doing it now lol xD So I'm not misspelling it and here's why:
> 
> magik = spells, charms and curses
> 
> magic = tricks
> 
> So that's why I spell it that way xD
> 
> Now, normally I review chapters before I post them, I normally change a lot of things or add a lot of information but, I've reviewed at least half of this one and there's not much I did change so whatever xD I'm going to correct the rest tomorrow, I at least wanted to post this today though lol so here it is.
> 
> ENJOY! Fav and review if you liked!

"Odd," Thorin concluded, "It bears no title."

"Perhaps it was erased by time?" Dwalin suggested.

"I doubt it," Ori commented, he knew books well and wasn't afraid to display it, "There are normally faint markings on a book which once bore a title and though time has wrinkled it, it hasn't erased anything that once covered it. This book never bore a name."

"Then how do you know it's the one?" Kíli asked curiously.

"Because it has no name." Ori answered.

"Well there really is only one way to truly know if this is what we're looking for or not." Thorin stated as he gently opened the book. His eyes widened, "This…"

"What is it?" Kíli asked after a moment of silence.

"The pages…" Thorin mumbled frowning deeply as he showed them the pages, "They're blank."

"W-what?" Ori stuttered shocked that he had made a mistake concerning books. "How is that possible…?"

"I don't know!" Thorin hissed, tossing the book to the baffled dwarf, "Why don't you tell me!?"

Ori quickly examined the book, scanning through the pages at a quick pace as to try to understand what had happened. Dwalin peaked over his shoulder, "Do you think it might just be an ancient note book that had yet to be used?" he asked, "I reckon those don't have titles or engravings on the cover."

Ori blushed embarrassedly, he wouldn't say it but the thought that the worn book could have been a notepad had never crossed his mind. His grip on the deception tightened and the poor, flustered dwarf didn't dare look at his leader.

"Wonderful," Thorin growled sarcastically, "We've been falsely lead and who knows how much time we have left before the Elves appear and take us from this room!?"

"Don't yell at Ori," Kíli grumbled, "He was only trying to help."

"Instead of complaining," Balin chimed in, "I suggest we return to searching the shelves while we still have the time—"

"I'm afraid you no longer _do_ have the time." Elrond hissed just a few meters away. The group snapped their look in his direction, shock and defeat overtaking their features. He had arrived not so long ago, along with Gandalf who played the fool, and hadn't heard the details of the conversation yet he still knew it had to do with the mysterious Bilbo Baggins. "May I say that the last thing I was expecting was something as deceiving as this? I have clearly stated the dangers that could haunt this location and the excessive caution one would have to exercise!"

"I would like to point out," Nori began, "that we have not damaged _any_ of these prehistoric records."

"That will be for my specialists to judge." Elrond retorted sharply. "Now out with you! Gather your things and be gone from my homely home!"

"Hold on," Gandalf intervened, and all turned their gaze to him for none had noticed his presence, "Let us not be hasty. We do not have the necessary provisions to sustain ourselves before we manage to reach the next settlement."

" _Mithrandir_ , you are my dearest friend and I do not wish to send you to your doom for another's fault," Elrond began sending a glare in Thorin's direction, "However, these dwarves do not deserve anymore kindness from me."

"And what if Thorin were to apologize?" Gandalf suggested slyly, "Would you then consider letting us leave with provisions?"

"I would allow you all to stay the night!" Elrond answered with an air of sarcasm that was odd for the Elf, "However, we both know that he will do no such thing. His hatred for Elves surpasses the events of the past—"

"Forgive me." Thorin blurted out without realising what he had just done.

All froze and slowly shifted their bewilderment to the King Beneath the Mountain who had just astonished them all. "Pardon me?" Elrond nearly stuttered.

"I ask forgiveness." Thorin said through his gritted teeth, he tried his best to sound sincere even if it was a lie, "You have shown us great hospitality and we have disrespected it by disregarding the only rule you set in place."

There was a moment of silence in which Elrond tried his best to assess what had just happened and how he should react to it. Before he could make a decision on his feelings, Kíli piped up, breaking the silence. "You have to let us stay now." He grinned and Thorin slapped him almost immediately. "Ow! What!?"

"Shut up!" Fíli hissed to his brother.

"It's still true…" The younger prince mumbled rubbing his sore spot, "He has to keep his word…"

"Shut—"

"I have agreed to terms set by Gandalf expecting nothing," Elrond admitted after a moment, "And I am honestly bewildered by the turn of events. I thank you for your apology and I do forgive you, Thorin King of Erebor, however I will still request that you leave in the morning. The rooms first introduced to you will be the ones you will use for the night during which we shall prepare your supplies. You will leave upon daybreak."

That last part of his sentence didn't seem complete however Thorin assumed that the Elven Lord was hinting to the fact that they were no longer welcomed in Rivendell. And none could blame him, the group of dwarves had been a nuisance since their arrival and the Elves had no need to show them any kindness after the first few rude acts, yet their better judgement still prevailed and Thorin felt rather cheap in return. But he would never admit to that – not to Elves at least.

"Well," Gandalf began, "Do not dally. Off to bed with you."

And the dwarves, knowing better than to argue with the order, complied and dragged their feet towards the exit. They carefully observed the library one last time, as if quickly looking for the book they had sought before leaving. However, that brief search was inevitably in vain.

"May your dreams be still and peaceful." Elrond wished with some form of bitterness.

* * *

After the butchering of the dwarf, the Contractor's interactions with Bilbo became scarce. The break periods between the hours of work seemed to grow and even then, during the time they did spend together, the Contractor barely gave out orders. At first Bilbo thought the man was troubled but soon he realized that he was simply unwrapped in thought. He had considered questioning the matter a couple of times but always decided that it was best not to at the last second because he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what was going on in his head.

"You are dismissed." The Contractor announced.

Bilbo had been working in his study, trying to organize it as best he could in alphabetical order – as wished by his master. He had only begun his task nearly ten minutes ago but the hobbit reminded himself that the Contractor had a worse notion of time than he did.

"Very well," Bilbo complied as he placed the book he was holding in the proper place, "I will be in my room."

"Really?" The Contractor asked genuinely surprised. "You won't go visit the Dwarf King for a bit?"

Bilbo froze but then stared at his master with great confusion. "No…" he answered slowly. He couldn't help but wonder why the man was asking him such a senseless question – had he forgotten that Bilbo was forbidden from entering the room for the rest of eternity? _However,_ the hobbit thought, _He did seem to have a bad memory…didn't he?_

"Oh?" The Contractor asked, "Has your love finally been extinguished? Pity, I thought you would truly love him with every fiber of your being until the end of time…Perhaps the butchery has made you realize that the Dwarf King was still destined to die like all mortal beings."

Bilbo's mood darkened considerably, "No…" he mumbled, "I still love him…"

"Then why do you refuse to pay him a visit?" The Contractor queried, he turned away from his papers, paying more attention to his hobbit servant though the latter assumed he wasn't concentrating much on the notes in the first place. "Perhaps you saw him engage in a relationship with another and you're angry with him?"

Bilbo blushed in embarrassment, "N-no! I would never be…" he stuttered as his voice trailed off. Bilbo always assumed that he would never be jealous – rather happy – if Thorin ever found someone to spend the rest of his life with but the more the thought pervaded his mind, the more he realized he was anxious to know if such a thing had happened. Wherever he was with the Contractor, time clearly didn't seem to make sense so it was safe for the Hobbit to assume that months, years or even centuries had passed since he last peered in the Eye. He cleared his throat and tried to regain his proper posture, "I think I will pay him a visit, then. I will be with the Eye for a moment and then in my room."

"Very well." The Contractor said and returned to the documents sprawled across his desk.

Thus Bilbo left the Contractor's study and reluctantly headed for the orb. He wasn't sure whether the Contractor was testing him or if he really did just have a bad memory but Bilbo rationalized that the Contractor never had sneaky tendencies and was a rather straightforward person. Not only that but he seemed to be accentuated on equality – never treating one with great care nor with excruciating rudeness, only with the proper amount of politeness. It seemed odd to assume that he would purposely try to trick him into misconduct yet Bilbo still hesitated. However, the Tookish side of him soon took over as he thought of Thorin. He wanted to see him and his heart quaked for just a glimpse of his king, thus he knew he would use the Eye even if he risked the Contractor's wrath if he were ever to remember what he had once forbade.

Bilbo entered the familiar room with care as to control the insanely loud creaking of the door which failed partially. Then he wandered towards the floating globe and summoned Thorin like he always had. When his sleeping form appeared in the Eye, Bilbo was shocked as he noticed that the Dwarf King was no longer in Erebor. Upon studying the simple yet elegant architecture of the room and the delicate patterns stitched into the blankets, Bilbo realized that, for some reason, Thorin was in an Elf City – most likely Rivendell (the possibility of it being Mirkwood seemed unreasonable since Thorin hated Thranduil with a passion). He wondered why the dwarf was in such a location but also how long it had been since he had first arrived.

Subconsciously, Bilbo reached for the orb just as he first did but this time with the intention of entering Thorin's dream as he had accidentally done before. He stopped himself just as the tip of his fingers probed the Eye, rippling its smooth surface. He considered the consequences he had first suffered upon discovering said magikal object's ability and of the Contractor's fury. But the Tookish side soon reasoned that the hooded man had been horribly distracted lately and, if he hurried, he would have the time to find the answers to his questions and escape the room without being caught. Then the Baggins side thought about the horrible consequences and argued that it would be better to just ask the Eye to show what had happened prior to Thorin's arrival in the Elf City which would also explain the reason for his journey. Finally, Bilbo's heart chimed in and he realized he so desperately wished to talk to his king even if it meant to suffer the same pain as before. And without further self conflict, Bilbo leaped into the Eye.

_Everything was white again and by the time Bilbo realized he was conscious, he could hear someone calling his name like a chant in the distance. He turned towards the voice's direction and saw Thorin running towards him, a frantic look paving his face. In mere seconds, the Dwarf King was before him, breathing heavily._

" _How do you know my name?" Bilbo asked. "I never had a chance to tell you."_

" _Halfling," Thorin began forcing himself to calm down, clearly he was overflowing with nervous energy, "It seems that I've been dreaming only of you since the day of my birth, the desire of knowing who you were finally got the better of me and I did my research. I found your red book, and it contained your name thus explaining how I know you belong to it."_

" _Oh…" Bilbo mumbled thinking of the red book he had filled with his adventures before leaving for Rivendell. He had more questions for the Dwarf King concerning his research but a personal one took the head, "However, you don't remember_ me _do you?"_

" _I fear I do not," Thorin confirmed grimly, "But I need you to tell me. Who are you? What were you to me? And is what you wrote true? Did my nephews and I really die?"_

_There was a short pause which was quickly interrupted by Thorin's frantic pleading. He spoke about time, about not knowing when it would end and how he wanted answers before waking. Bilbo reasoned that he did have a point and that he would also have to be weary of the Contractor for he didn't know when his master would judge that he had had enough free time._

" _My name is Bilbo Baggins," the hobbit began with a formal introduction, he felt it necessary because Thorin didn't remember their bond and, since he was royalty, the dwarf probably expected some level of courtesy, "I lived in Bag End and, one summer's night, thirteen dwarves stormed my house, hauled me on an adventure and changed my life. Along said adventure you all became my friends even if we did have some rough times – particularly between you and I, Thorin. However, we overcame those obstacles and forged a seemingly unbreakable bond. What my book says is the truth. I would never have lied about such a life changing event…"_

" _So…" Thorin mumbled dismally, "We, my nephews and I, died?" Bilbo nodded, "And you brought us back? Why would you do such a thing? Why would you forsake your life for us?"_

_Bilbo frowned, he thought that if Thorin ever learned about his sacrifice, he would be grateful, not resentful. "I did it because I loved you all! Because you had something great to live for! Because you were my whole world and I couldn't live without any of you!" Bilbo snapped harshly, "Every moment I spent in Erebor before returning home, I expected to have Fíli and Kíli burst through the entrance of every room I passed through! I expected to see their bright smiles and hear their voices babbling endlessly about their new plans for their new-found home! But that never happened! I never saw them! And I never saw you! And that was the most painful thing of all because_ I loved you so much _and I didn't realize it until you were gone!"_

_Thorin was taken aback by the confession but mostly by the tears pouring down Bilbo's face – the latter hadn't even noticed. Finally, the hobbit crumbled to the ground and sobbed furiously after finally ridding the weight that had been haunting his heart since the death of his king, his friend, his love. Thorin knelt to his level and gently tilted his head up so their gazes were fixed upon each other._

" _I'm sorry," the Dwarf King apologized soothingly, "It must have seemed as though I didn't appreciate your sacrifice. I didn't mean to make you cry."_

" _It doesn't matter…" Bilbo sniffled, "You didn't know…"_

" _There's one last thing I want to know," Thorin continued as he helped Bilbo rise to his feet, "I want you to tell me what exactly happened when you left your home and was spirited away. Rumours have it that you were looking for a book in Rivendell."_

_Bilbo nodded confirming the rumour, he rubbed his eyes from their tears before beginning his tale, "When I returned home and gathered all my things from the Sackville-Baggins'," Bilbo began, and upon pronouncing their name he wondered if they ever tried to take possession of Bag End after his disappearance. But the thought was brushed away as he continued the story he had begun to recount, "I fixed my home, cleaned it, refilled the pantry and when all the chores were done, I realized just how lonely things were. I missed the lot of you and though I thought I was finished mourning you, my home had me realize just how much I was fooling myself. Eventually, Gandalf suggested I write down the events of that adventure to dispel the pain from my heart but I fear that that only renewed it._

" _Finally, I took it upon myself to travel to Rivendell to change the depressing thoughts pervading my mind, and I journeyed there many times before Lord Elrond suggested I look through his library for novels because he knew how much I enjoyed Elven literature. One day, I found a book, a weird black one without a title. When I opened it, the pages were blank and I thought it to have been just some unused notebook. And, for some reason, I decided to keep it even if I had no right to do so since it belonged to Lord Elrond. I brought it back home with me after that particular journey to Rivendell and paid it no heed for a long time._

" _It was only when I was sobbing pathetically while remembering my adventure with you lot that the black book was brought to my attention once more. I had left it in my desk and it was emitting a sort of light. When I opened it, I witnessed in awe as scripture appeared on the virgin pages, paving it with Elven explanations and pentagrams. From what I already knew of the Elf language, I was able to decode most of it. The book spoke of a power—or more of a being, sealed away in a different world due to the excess strength it possessed. I was curious and, suddenly, the idea of using it to bring back the dead dawned in my head. However, I pushed the thought away immediately knowing that it was a negative one but, somehow, it still lingered._

" _I remember peaking at it a few times before commencing a new journey to Rivendell without knowing it would be my last. Before leaving, when the hobbits asked me why I was going to Rivendell again, I told them I was searching for a book – which wasn't a lie at first because I honestly thought all I was going to do was look through Lord Elrond's library again and then return home. But my plans inevitably changed; upon re-arriving in Rivendell, the urge to just try to beckon the mentioned power was too much for me to control and, without realizing it, I stole everything necessary for the summoning ritual from the Elves. Then I went to the library, where none bothered me, and performed it. I drew the proper pentagrams on the floor, sprinkled the magik herbs I was told to acquire over specific areas of the drawing and when I finished, I pronounced the magik word. Said magik word varies from person to person, apparently, one must speak what he desires to gain and, in my case, it was life._

" _And when I uttered that word, it seemed as though time itself was put to a halt when a menacingly tall figure appeared above the summoning circle. I don't know if he was an Elf or a Man because he never told me his name nor has he ever showed me his face – though, at that moment, his race was the least of my worries. He asked my why I had conjured him with the pretenses of wanting life. He said that I already had it, therefore should not need it again. Then I explained to him that it was to bring back those whom I loved._

" _And how many of them do you intend to bring back?" he asked._

" _Three." I answered, "Fíli, Kíli and Thorin Oakenshield."_

" _Three? Shocking number," he commented, "Why would you want to bring back so many of them? Shouldn't one suffice?"_

" _Though I do love one differently from the two remaining," I admitted, "I share equal affection for all of them and know that if I only choose one, he won't be able to live without the others."_

" _Then you will have to pay a bigger price." He declared, "If it were just one person, I would have asked you to sacrifice another in return but since this is such a high charge, I would ask that you follow me to my castle and remain my servant for the rest of eternity."_

" _And it took me some time to consider because of the many things I was leaving behind but I knew that I was only stalling and that even if I were to have been given years to consider, my answer wouldn't have changed. I accepted his terms and upon casting a spell to resurrect you and your nephews, he took me back to his home, this other world where I now find myself."_

" _And who is he?" Thorin questioned, "Or do you still not know?"_

" _I still don't know…" Bilbo admitted, "But I've come to refer to him as_ master _and_ contractor _because he placed me under an eternal contract as his servant."_

_An odd expression overcame Thorin and Bilbo wasn't sure whether it was just his imagination but it seemed as though the King of dwarves was a little annoyed or upset. "And what does he have you do…?" he asked slowly, "Is he a cruel person?"_

" _I'm not sure…" Bilbo confessed and was suddenly very confused in regards to his feelings towards the Contractor, "He comforts me when I'm crying…but he also has me…"_

_When Bilbo's voice trailed off, Thorin became visibly agitated. He grabbed the hobbit's arms and shook him desperately, "What!? What does he have you do!?" he demanded._

" _H-he had me butcher a dwarf not long ago…" Bilbo stuttered, wincing at the other's force. "Granted he was dead…but he…he looked a lot like you…"_

" _Why?" Thorin asked, "Why would he ask you to do such a thing?"_

" _I don't know," Bilbo mumbled, "He doesn't tell me much…but I think it might have been a punishment…" and before Thorin could ask the obvious question that was meant to follow, Bilbo answered it, "You see, I'm not supposed to be here right now…if I'm here, in your dreams, it's because I discovered a sort of passage way that I was never supposed to know about. When I first found it, the Contractor learned of my finding and got angry…as a penalty, he tested some of his spells on me, dissected me alive—"_

" _Enough." Thorin interrupted sharply, "I do not wish to hear the rest of the horrors he had you suffer through."_

_It was then that it occurred to Bilbo that the Contractor might not have been as much of a passive man as he thought. Though he nodded and complied with Thorin's plea of remaining ignorant, the tortures rolled through his head and he shuddered. "I'm sorry," Bilbo apologized, "Maybe I should go…he doesn't have a notion of time and I'm afraid he might assume that a day has already rolled by and seeks my aid once more…"_

" _So be it." Thorin concluded with a sharp nod, "Though I wish to give you hope, Bilbo Baggins."_

" _Hope?" Bilbo repeated._

" _Yes," the former confirmed. He placed his hands on Bilbo's shoulders and noticed then just how frail the hobbit was. Then he continued, "I swear to you that, in order to repay your sacrifice, I will find you and I will rescue you."_

_Bilbo wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to the declaration, he was flattered that even though Thorin still didn't remember him, he was ready to save him. However Bilbo knew that the chances of Thorin's success were very low, nearly impossible, but the hobbit didn't have the heart to tell him. Thus he nodded and smiled warmly, "Thank you."_

Bilbo stumbled out of the Eye; he wasn't sure how he managed to regain contact with his body but he had done so somehow. And after quickly peering around the room, he noticed that the Contractor was nowhere in sight, to his relief. He glanced back towards the floating globe and noticed that, back in Rivendell, Thorin had awoken from his sleep just as the sun was rising in Middle Earth. The hobbit watched with amusement as the king jumped out of his bed and quickly stormed through the hallways, but he soon stopped his observation and left the room. Bilbo made his way to his room and sat on his bed where he laid and rested for a few short moments when his door opened revealing the Contractor.

"I have need of your assistance again." He declared.

"Of course." Bilbo smiled with melancholy. He slipped off his bed and followed his master to whatever task he had set in mind for him.


	7. Creating a Gateway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **OMG, I'm so proud of myself! I didn't think I was going to get this chapter out any time soon xP**
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> **Anyways, here it is xD**
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> **I hope I don't bore you this chapter, there's a lot of technical, tactic stuff to discuss (and based off the vocab I just used, you're probably assuming it's shitty strategics)**
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> **CONFESSION I: I actually pride myself on being a rather good strategist xP**
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> **Who knows if I'm actually good at it though xDD**
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> **Anyways, I'm not going to keep you waiting any longer but I do have one last thing I want to say that I actually am busy and, somehow, I'm able to find time to write but I don't know if I'll manage to write anything else for a while xD Maybe the next chapter will actually pop up in the end of March or beginning April, I don't know lol We'll have to wait and see xD**
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> **NOW PLEASE ENJOY! And why don'tcha review and fav if you liked while you're at the bottom? xD**
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> **PS: I normally review the chapter before I post it lol but I didn't do it yet because I really wanted to get it out xD So bear with the mistakes lol but rest assured that they will eventually be fixed! (Though I don't think there are too many!)**
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> * * *

Bilbo stumbled out of the Eye; he wasn't sure how he managed to regain contact with his body but he had done so somehow. And after quickly peering around the room, he noticed that the Contractor was nowhere in sight, to his relief. He glanced back towards the floating globe and noticed that, back in Rivendell, Thorin had awoken from his sleep just as the sun was rising in Middle Earth. The hobbit watched with amusement as the king jumped out of his bed and quickly stormed through the hallways, but he soon stopped his observation and left the room. Bilbo made his way to his room and sat on his bed where he laid and rested for a few short moments when his door opened revealing the Contractor.

"I have need of your assistance again." He declared.

"Of course." Bilbo smiled melancholically. He slipped off his bed and followed his master to whatever task he had set in mind for him.

* * *

"Gandalf! Elrond!" Thorin yelled frantically as he dashed through the empty halls of Rivendell, heading to where he thought Elrond slept. Guards attempted to intercept him and claimed that it was far too early in the morning to disturb the Elf Lord however Thorin would have none of it. He pushed through their self-made barricade and yelled louder whenever he had difficulty breaking through until, finally aroused by the chaotic noise the Dwarf King was making, Elrond and Gandalf emerged from their chambers. "We cannot leave!" Thorin declared immediately.

"What?" Gandalf asked confused.

"What is this you demand at day break?" Elrond asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"I had a dream!" Thorin hurriedly explained, "The Halfling," and for some reason the words rolled easily off his tongue, "He is kept as a prisoner to a man with great malice and I promised to deliver him! I must stay! I must save him!"

"Calm down, dear friend," Gandalf demanded with a light chuckle, "You are visibly agitated. Speak slowly and tell your story from the beginning."

Thus Thorin told the wizard and the Elf about his dream, the conversation he had with Bilbo Baggins – including the alternate past – and, lastly, of the parting promise the Dwarf King had made. During that short tale, both Gandalf and Elrond listened attentively and with great consideration what Thorin would soon be asking and if the reasons for his plea were reasonable. Elrond was the first to speak prior to the end of the story.

"You wish to return to a banned location and gain access to a dark lord's realm in order to save a hobbit of which you have no recollection all because of a promise?" Elrond recapped frowning at how outrageous the request was. "You do realise that _you_ were the one who promised a rescue and not _I_ , do you?"

"Lord Elrond," Thorin began, emphasising on the embellished words, "I understand that we have not been the kindest of guests nor the most respectful and enjoyable, and I understand that you have no obligation to show us further kindness; however, I beg of you to allow me access to the library one last time in order to save that hobbit who calls me friend."

And though Elrond was evidently taken aback by the formality and the desperation of the request, his answer didn't change. "I'm afraid the answer is still no." Elrond stated, "I will not be held responsible for the demise of the King of Erebor. You may attempt to contact this dark lord or invade his realm on your own terms however you will do no such thing in my homely home nor with my consent. Let it be known, if you do persevere with this madness and meet your end, that I, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, had no doing in the misfortune."

"You selfish—" Thorin growled as he lunged for the Elf Lord but was quickly intercepted by the guards who had sensed his rage rise, "Do you really care more about your books than the life and wellbeing of a hobbit who also called you friend!? He said he visited you numerous times and you engaged in countless conversations depicting the history of Elves! You were clearly friends and now you abandon him!?"

"I'm afraid I have no recollection of this other past," Elrond said dryly, and at this point Thorin knew it was hopeless to try to reason with him, "and though I do feel a sort of regret in not allowing you to chase after this hobbit, I do not refuse it to you merely to protect precious documents of old! I refuse it because it could potentially endanger all those residing in my homely home and I will not have that! As a King or as a leader, one must consider the effect his desires will have on the greater majority." And with that, Elrond turned his heels and marched away, back to his chambers but suddenly halted to add: "You best gather the rest of your company immediately and be on your way."

"Cease your struggling, Thorin." Gandalf advised as the Elf disappeared behind doors. Then he sighed and turned his gaze to the Dwarf King, "I fear the answer given was final. Our quest ends here."

Thorin shrugged off the guards with a violent swing and glared at his feet as the reality of their situation sunk in. They had no means of recreating the pentagram Bilbo had first created to summon the Contractor because none of them could read Elfish. Finally, he slumped in defeat and treaded back to the halls in which rested the rest of his company to awake them.

There had been many moans and groans, protests and complains, and shouts of outrageousness when the company had been awoken and ordered to gather their things immediately. None of them had any knowledge of what had taken place not too long ago between Thorin and Elrond however, most of them were hoping that the Elf Lord would have reconsidered over the night and would allow them to pursue their journey. When it was learned that the answer remained the same and that they were forced to leave and never return, Thorin, Gandalf and the Elf Guards had almost more than they could handle. A riot nearly broke out, but, somehow, they managed to gather them, set them on ponies and guide them away from Elrond's home, never to return.

"Rubbish!" Kíli cursed as he pouted on his pony. "Why is Elrond so persistent about not letting us continue with uncovering the mystery of Baggins?"

"Mystery of Baggins?" Fíli repeated with a snort.

"Well that's what I always imagined they would call it when we'd return successfully." Kíli explained in a whine.

"And who would _they_ be?" Continued his brother.

" _They_ would be the story tellers and dwarves who would spread the story of this adventure and tell about our courageousness and bravery!" Kíli snapped, "However, now all they'll say is that this adventure was absolutely pointless and a waste of time!"

"When do you suppose you will tell them?" Gandalf whispered to Thorin as he guided his horse near the latter's pony.

"Tell them what?" Thorin replied absentmindedly.

"About your revelation." Gandalf specified, "They will want to know about this other meeting you had with Bilbo Baggins."

"Perhaps…" Thorin mused, "I do not wish to give them false hope or renewed weariness…"

"I do believe that, if our journey has truly come to an end," Gandalf began softly, "That the least you owe them is to tell them what has happened during your slumber because they wanted to uncover the truth about Bilbo Baggins as much as you."

"Then I will tell them when we rest for the night." Thorin concluded, "If I tell them any sooner, I fear they would try to sneak away and return to Rivendell and ransack the place."

"It doesn't seem like an unlikely action on their part." Gandalf chuckled.

Thus they continued their travel, complaining about the meanness of Elves and forgetting their own rudeness which could have potentially caused the former's set state of mind. They didn't stop to eat when noon came – Bombur didn't even complain – they were all just so incredibly upset by the turn of events that their appetite escaped them. However, when night fell and they were forced to stop, their hunger that had evaded them when the sun was shinning returned tenfold and they ate, famished, due to the meal they had skipped. Then, when most of them were done eating and built up enough good will to chuckle, Thorin decided he would tell them about the reverie that had caused their early expulsion.

"Last night," the Dwarf King began, "I was revisited by the Halfling whom we sought. And this time, I had enough time to ask him the information we wanted answered. His name is indeed Bilbo Baggins and what he wrote in the red book is true. Fíli, Kíli and I died in an alternative past and, out of love and affection for the lot of us, he sacrificed his life to bring us back. He also told me how he had managed to find the power necessary to accomplish such a demanding task and – as Gandalf had suspected – he conjured a great and powerful dark lord to which he offered his eternal servitude. Supposedly, the black book Ori discovered was the one he used to summon the man he now refers to as the Contractor."

"Ha! I knew it!" Ori exclaimed, "I knew it couldn't be just a blank notebook!"

"This is great news," Bofur commented, "Doesn't that mean we can continue the quest, now that we have more information?"

"No," Thorin said grimly and immediately, protests aroused the group, thus forcing the Dwarf King to explain himself, "We can't continue with this journey because the book contains Elven scriptures and, even if we _could_ read them, we don't have it anymore."

"Though you have forgotten that _I_ can read Elfish," Gandalf began, "It is true that we no longer possess the book thus we are forced to abandon and return home."

"Well, if Elrond is so worried about his precious books," Nori suggested, "Can't we just take the book and use it somewhere that isn't his library?"

"I'm afraid that, although that option could have potentially worked prior to the events of this morning, it is no longer valid." Gandalf sighed.

"The events of this morning?" Nori repeated, "What happened this morning?"

"After awaking from my dream," Thorin began with great embarrassment, "I disturbed Elrond and demanded that he allowed us to stay and prevail. However, he didn't comply and upon voicing his answer, a fit of rage overtook me and I fear that it was because of that that we were forced to leave earlier."

"Then we should go back and storm the place!" Dwalin roared, jumping to his feet, "They're Elves! Hardly a challenge for us Dwarves!"

"Calm down, brother," Balin said tugging so that his brother would retake his seat, "If we were to storm Rivendell just to get a book, we would restart a feud between the Dwarves and Elves that had begun to die. Not only that but, the action would sully King Thorin's name."

"But we can't just abandon like this!" Kíli cried.

"We don't have a choice!" Thorin growled, and everyone suddenly went quiet. "Do you think I want to give up? Do you think I want to break the promise I made to the Halfling? I said I would rescue him but now, because of the cowardice of an Elf, I cannot do what I swore I would do and it _kills_ me! He told me that when the Contractor had asked him why he was asking for such a high amount of lives returned he answered to him that the reason for such a large demand was because he knew that we could not live without the one or ones left behind. And though that is entirely true, I now realise that I don't seem capable to live without him because I know that these dreams will not stop until I have found him and rescued him!"

"Then why should we give up!?" Kíli snapped, "Okay so maybe the hobbit, Baggins, likes you best, maybe he spoke to you twice through a dream and maybe you're haunted by memories of him, but what about us? We too dream of him! I remember saving him from three giant trolls and catching him when he was flung in the air; I _saved_ him! And Fíli and I both remember teasing him over various things and even encouraging him to chase after those trolls!" A small smile graced his lips as he remembered, "We gave him confusing instructions on how to contact us if need ever be and then we disappeared from sight. He was so confused and frightened, and for some reason he decided to go after those monsters anyway!" A few of the group chuckled whereas the others smiled, "The point is, it's not just you who dreams of him, it's not just me and Fíli either, it's all of us!"

"I dreamt of him cutting me out of a spider's trap," Bombur said, "I fell straight on my head and I remembered seeing the little fellow wince at the sound of the collision. Then he apologized and tried to help me up but I nearly crushed him!"

"I dreamt of him reading the contract we gave him to join our journey," Bofur chuckled, "He was reading the contract while we were discussing how we would approach the mountain and retake it from Smaug when suddenly, he squeaked out the word: _incineration_. I tried to comfort him but I only made it worse, and then he fainted!"

The entire company erupted in a roar of laughter, "I dreamt of that too!" Dori exclaimed, "The look on his face was priceless!"

"See uncle?" Kíli laughed turning to Thorin, "We all dream of Baggins and we all learned to love him even if we can't remember him. Maybe he doesn't talk to us in our dreams and maybe we haven't spoken much about what we see in our sleep but that's because – and I'm not sure I'm speaking for everyone at this point – those moments we relive are, or became, precious to us and it was something we preferred to keep to ourselves. They're like our precious little secrets – or they _were_ until we learned that we could potentially find him. But now our meeting him is being denied by Elves and by _you_. You were the one who instigated this adventure in the first place why is it that, at the first sign of actual trial, you quit immediately? Didn't Daín say you better not come back empty handed?"

"It's not that simple anymore K—"

"Of course it is uncle!" Kíli interrupted with an exasperated air, "We just need to go back to Rivendell, take the book and find Master Baggins!"

"I will not wage a war or renew a feud so carelessly, Kíli!" Thorin growled.

"M-maybe you don't have to…" Ori mumbled quietly. He had been trying to speak for the longest time yet no opportunity had ever presented itself. The dwarf fished through his bag, which sat comfortably next to him, and pulled out a very familiar black book that had once fooled the company. "I never gave it back…" Ori explained once the awe and realisation began to sink in, "I guess I must have been so shocked when Lord Elrond found us that it never occurred to me to give back the book…"

"That's wonderful, Ori!" Kíli exclaimed immediately hugging their saviour. "Now we can continue—"

"Not necessarily," Fíli interrupted, he had taken the book and was looking through the blank pages, "There's no writing whatsoever."

"Bilbo said the pages shone before it appeared." Thorin stated.

"But I believe there is a bigger problem at hand which none of you have considered," Gandalf interrupted, "Suppose we do uncover the method to reveal the hidden scriptures – which is honestly a mere question of time – then what? We gather all the ingredients necessary, draw the pentagram and, finally, we summon the Contractor and demand for the return of Bilbo Baggins? Do you not realise that other than simply refusing, he could comply with the demand and ultimately kill the heirs of Durin thus restoring what was once undone? What will his sacrifice have amounted to if what Thorin, Fíli and Kíli were to die again?"

"Hold on," Balin objected before anyone else could speak, "The _Contractor_? There seems to be a portion of the story that hasn't been told just yet! Before we continue this bickering, I suggest we have _all_ the details present!"

Thorin nodded in agreement and thus recounted the entire dream just like he once had, careful to specify everything before they could resume their course of action. Once the tale was done, and Thorin exhausted by speaking, the others began to chat.

"From what I understand," said Gandalf, "Bilbo was able to read the book when he felt an intense emotion – or rather, when he was in an intense state of mind. It seems that, if we were to summon the Contractor in the same way as he, one of us would have to mimic the desperation he must have felt at the time."

"How can we do that?" Dori asked, "It's not like we can just _will_ it."

"I don't think we'll have to just yet, my dear Dori," Gandalf concluded with a grin, "I believe that the book is more a gateway then it is a spell book."

"Could you then open the gate without having to summon the Contractor?" Ori asked.

"That was precisely what I was going to say if you would have given me the chance." Gandalf laughed, "I _am_ a wizard thus I _do_ wield magik!"

"Then do you already have a method in mind?" Balin asked.

"I do," Gandalf confirmed, "However, I will need King Thorin's consent."

"What exactly do you have in mind?" Thorin questioned wearily.

"Oh do not make such a glum face!" Gandalf laughed, "It's nothing potentially life threatening! You will just need to sleep for long hours and wait for Bilbo Baggins to join you in a dream for conversation. In the meanwhile, I will chant a spell constantly to create the new passage. The second you come in contact with the hobbit, the new gateway should be created immediately and you will awaken from your dream."

"And how long do you suppose I will sleep?" Thorin continued.

"You won't need to worry about that," Gandalf reassured, "With a quick mix of special herbs boiled into a potion, you will sleep for six hours straight at times. When you awaken, you will be fed and allowed to move around and stimulate your body before repeating the process."

"And you're sure this will work?" Thorin asked, clearly he was nervous about the whole ordeal.

"Well I'm sure but that doesn't mean there aren't any chances for failure." Gandalf mused, "The only way we'll really know whether this will work or not is by trying it."

"And now that we have a plan on how to access his realm without his knowing," Thorin began, "How do you suppose we fight a formidable foe such as the Contractor?"

"From what you said," said Dori, "He doesn't sound like such a bad fellow. Do you think we could reason with him?"

"He had the Halfling butcher a dead dwarf resembling me." Thorin growled, "He tested spells on him and dissected him while he was still conscious – he is _not_ a good man."

"Even then," Gandalf said, "He seems reasonable enough. However, we still cannot underestimate the danger he can represent. The Contractor has altered the past which already demonstrates a level of his excessive power."

"Then we need a plan." Fíli concluded, "But how do we make one without knowing a thing about his habits?"

"Perhaps we should just sneak in and sneak out?" Gloín suggested.

"If we do that, he'll eventually realise what happened." Balin said, "And once he does find out what has happened, nothing will stop him from killing us and taking back what is rightfully his."

"Bilbo Baggins does _not_ belong to him!" Thorin yelled jumping to his feet.

"I'm afraid that if you haven't misheard anything and retold everything within the story properly," Balin said grimly, "Bilbo Baggins does indeed belong to him."

"Then what do we do now?" Kíli sighed.

"I believe there's only one option left," Gandalf said, "We improvise."

"That could be very dangerous." Dwalin reproached.

"It could, but it's the best plan we have." Gandalf explained, "I think you all remember your formations thus wait for your King's lead and follow his command. We should find Bilbo Baggins first, ask him for information on our foe, confront said foe and hope for the best. If we win, then we can all leave happily and resume to course of our lives."

"I think that's the best plan we'll ever have." Bofur sighed in agreement.

"Then I believe we should get to work." Dori stated.

"But first," Gandalf interrupted, "We need Thorin's approval."

Then all turned their gaze to Thorin Oakenshield, King Beneath the Mountain, and waited for his answer. And though their King appeared to be very pensive – which he was – his decision had already been made and, before long, he realised he was just stalling. "Alright, fine." He sighed. Thus the company got to work in collecting the herbs necessary, following Gandalf's precise orders and instructions.

* * *

"Do you ever wonder…" the Contractor mumbled, "What your life would have been like if you would have continued living with the loss of your love?"

"It's never crossed my mind…" Bilbo admitted as he cleaned his master's study, "but I suppose that I do now.

"Would you like me to tell you?" The Contractor offered.

Bilbo paused his actions, considering the proposition. "How would you know?" he asked curiously, "Unless life is scripted, there shouldn't be any way to know."

"Very observant of you," the Contractor commented, "However, even if life is unscripted, there is still a way to know."

"What is it?" Bilbo asked as he gathered a large pile of books and attempted to lift them.

However, the poor hobbit nearly fell once he had managed to pry the pile from the ground but the Contractor quickly intervened. "There's a book called the Book of Odds," he explained as he helped Bilbo stabilise himself, "In which the odds of certain events occurring in a being's life are calculated and recorded. The only thing that the Book of Odds knows for a fact is the date, time and manner of death."

"I-I see." Bilbo stuttered as he concentrated on walking and not falling again under the weight of what he was carrying.

"Would you still like to know?" the Contractor asked, and at that moment, Bilbo couldn't help but compare the man to a child which had him smile.

"If it will please you." Bilbo answered.

"It's not a question of pleasing me or not, I'm indifferent," the Contractor said, "It's whether it will please _you_ or not."

"Then perhaps I'm curious." Bilbo concluded, placing the stack and brushing the dust from his clothes quickly.

With a snap of his fingers, a large book appeared in the Contractor's hand and the latter immediately began flipping through it before stopping mid-way from the middle. "Bilbo Baggins," he read, "Died at the age of 131 while sailing to the Undying Lands."

"The Undying Lands?" Bilbo repeated.

"You were great friends with Lord Elrond, Elf-Lord of Rivendell," the Contractor explained, "When you would have embarked on your final journey in the hopes of revisiting Erebor, you would have become too weak to continue pass Rivendell and spent the rest of your time along his side. Eventually, once when he would have been finalising his preparations to the Undying Lands, he would have invited you as an Elf-friend and Ring-bearer to partake in this journey."

"Ring…bearer?" Bilbo asked slowly reaching for his pocket.

"Please don't worry about that," the Contractor reassured, "I have no interest in something that is of no use to me."

"Oh…" Bilbo mumbled straying his hand away from his pocket, "Well…what else happened?"

"A few years after your return to the Shire after the conquest of Erebor," the Contractor continued flipping through a few pages, "Your cousin, Drogo Baggins, and his wife, Primula Brandybuck, will drown in a river leaving their only son, Frodo Baggins, parentless. None of his relatives would have taken him in thus you would have taken it upon yourself to adopt the boy and raise him best you could."

"And what would happen to Frodo now?" Bilbo asked, worried for his little cousin.

"Currently, his parents still live and he is cared for," the Contractor said as he passed through many pages to evaluate Frodo's odds, "However, it is suggested that Frodo will die, killed by an Orc, while wandering a forest far from the Shire in search for food. Once his parents pass, of course. To think you could have saved him from such a fate…"

And at that moment, Bilbo felt incredibly horrible. He couldn't believe that the survival of his young cousin had depended on his presence for he had never thought such a thing would be required of him. But then, what Thorin had promised resurfaced in his mind and Bilbo felt a twinkle of hope even if he knew he shouldn't.

"I see…" Bilbo mumbled grimly, "And would I ever have gotten married?"

"All odds point to no." the Contractor answered, "You would have been a bachelor for life – though I do suppose it's still the case now."

"Oh…"

"Would you have liked to have been wedded?" the Contractor asked curiously, "Or to have an offspring?"

"I thought never really crossed my mind before…" Bilbo admitted, "I just find it sad that I would have been alone forever."

The Contractor seemed rather puzzled when Bilbo's mood darkened, unsure why the lack of a relationship was the cause of the hobbit's grimness. "Perhaps I could make you a bride?" he offered.

"Wha—No! No, no, no!" Bilbo stuttered.

"Right, you prefer males." The Contractor recalled, "A husband then?"

"N-no!" Bilbo squeaked, but then considered the thought for a short moment, "No! I-I don't need a husband or a wife! I'll be fine!"

"But you said you found it sad that you would have been alone…" the Contractor stated, clearly confused, "Wasn't that sorrow caused by lack of intimate companionship?"

"No, I'm sorry to have misled you." Bilbo apologized upon realising the confusion he had installed, "I shouldn't have said that. It's not because you're a bachelor for life that you're necessarily _alone_ for life."

"Perhaps…" the Contractor agreed and, with a snap of his fingers, the book disappeared.

"Though, I suppose that, in this case, I will be alone for all eternity." Bilbo mumbled absentmindedly as he returned to his task. For a moment, the Contractor merely stood in place and stared at the little hobbit with an indescribable feeling arising in his belly. But Bilbo never noticed. He didn't pay any heed to the man for the Contractor did have a tendency to stare at him emptily, however, this time, the Contractor tried speaking many times but without fruit. Eventually, Bilbo concluded that his master had been standing in the same position for quite some time and decided that the latter might have had something to say, "Is something wrong…?"

"…No." the Contractor answered after a long silence, "You may leave. You are dismissed."

"Alright." Bilbo said as he quickly stacked another pile of books next to the first one that had almost crushed him. "I'll be in my room—"

"Bilbo." The Contractor said quickly before he could leave.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm…" he paused, unsure if he wanted to continue or not, "I'm here…"

Bilbo didn't understand why he was being told such an obvious thing, "Yes…?" the hobbit responded unsure whether he was agreeing with the statement or asking what the former meant. And when nothing more was said, Bilbo bowed his head politely and excused himself from the room.

"I'm here…"


	8. Entering Elsewhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So someone wanted this chapter to come out before the end of March as a sort of indirect birthday gift; happy birthday love, though I think I'm a bit early xP**
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> **Anyways, so I just want to clear a few things up, I never got a chance to mention it in the story but the realm in which the Contractor and Bilbo are situated is called Elsewhere xP It's not an important detail but it justifies the chapter's name lol**
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> **I think we only have about two or three more chapters to go after this one. Ideally, it would be two but I'm not sure I can get down all the details in only two so there might be three xP**
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> **Anyways, I watched Sherlock BBC (I was mildly encouraged to do so by the fact that the Contractor reminds you guys so much of Sherlock) and I'm now I'm on the same boat as most of you xD It's safe to say that the Contractor is now Sherlock from way back when lol! I guess the only difference is that the Contractor has a super crappy memory but Sherlock has an amazing one xP**
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> **So yeah, just wanted to tell you guys that I totally agreed with you now xP So if some of you wanted a way to picture the Contractor, picture Sherlock with a black hood lol**
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> **Umm... I think that's it...**
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> **I just want to note that there's no 'romantic feels' specifically put in place between the Contractor and Bilbo, though I admit that I am fully aware of how I'm misleading you (and having a little fun doing so), I just want to put it out there that, there's NOTHING going on between those two xP I'm just setting something up lol**
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> **So ENJOY! And while you're down there, why dontcha leave a comment or fav or something if you liked xP**
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> **EDIT: I finally corrected this chapter and the next one will be up in four to five days, when I get back home. I'm currently in New York City and enjoying life :D**
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"I'm here…

I'm standing…right here…

I'm here…

Look at me…

I'm right here…

I'm _right_ here…

_Here_ …

Look at _me_ …

_Look_ at _me…_

_Look at me!_ "

* * *

Gathering the herbs necessary had taken a week. They had first attempted in the darkness the second prior to their decision into drugging Thorin into sleep, but the lack of light had proved challenging to accomplish said task. And upon morning rise, Gandalf had concluded that two of the plants necessary weren't found in the area and that they would have to travel to find them. Thus it had taken them a week to reach the next region in which the given plants grew prosperously and gather them. During that travel, they had also gathered a large amount of food and supplies in Bree, since it was on their way, and set up a proper camp for none of them knew how long they would have to wait for Bilbo to visit Thorin in his sleep and create the gateway.

It was as the sun was falling that Gandalf finished brewing the potion and was waiting for the heat to dissipate as to make the liquid drinkable. Thorin was evidently nervous just like the older members of the company whereas the younger ones were excited. Clearly, the thrill of adventure, danger and peril was invigorating to them – even to fearful Ori. Though it was suspected that the enthusiasm shared by the heirs of Durin contributed to Ori's excitement.

"Say, Gandalf," Ori began as he approached the old wizard, "Where do you suppose we will end up, considering that a portal is necessary to reach Bilbo Baggins?"

"That's a good question," Gandalf mused, "I suppose it will not be in Middle Earth nor will it be linked to it – that much is evident and self explanatory."

"How so?" Kíli asked joining in the conversation along with Fíli.

"Based off your uncle's story and what Bilbo Baggins has told him," Gandalf explained, "It seems that the Contractor was sealed away. And, if we take in consideration that the book was found in Rivendell, we can assume that those who spirited him away were Elves. From what I know about Elves and their magik, it's safe to say that some of them are capable of creating different worlds in which they can trap someone or something forever, which is probably what happened to the Contractor."

"Would that other world have a name?" Ori asked.

"I suppose it would," the wizard answer, "However, we would have to ask the one who sealed him away in the first place and said person might be dead or in the Undying Lands."

"What do you think we'll find there?" Fíli asked.

"Who knows?" Gandalf responded with a small grin, "Though creating a different world as a prison requires a lot of magik and life-energy – both of which are linked together. If the maker of the prison didn't perish after banishing the Contractor, he must have created something very basic and plain. I doubt that would include life-threatening beasts, so only he and Bilbo should reside on the other side of the portal. However, there's no guarantee of that or anything for that matter."

"Then how do we know?" Ori asked.

"Well, you don't." Gandalf smiled, "If you boys ever decide to continue with adventuring and wandering the planes of Middle Earth, you'll come to realise that there isn't always a way to know what awaits you on the other side of wherever it is you're going. The only thing you can do is what we're doing now: improvise and hope for the best." Gandalf then turned his gaze to the cooling liquid and judged that it was now drinkable, "Well, it seems that our trial begins now, my friends."

The wizard stood from his seat, grabbing the bowl containing the potion and slipped it into four separate vials. Then he grabbed one of the four flasks and made his way to Thorin who was staring at the fire, deeply engaged in thought. Upon his approach, Thorin looked up and once his eye caught notice of the potion, he understood that the time had come. They shared a look and Thorin stood, headed towards his bedroll. "It's time." The Dwarf King announced quietly.

All of the remaining Dwarves shared a look and gathered around their King, quietly wishing him the best of luck and hopes even if they knew the danger wasn't about to begin just yet. Gandalf gently pushed through their incomplete circle and handed the vial to Thorin who took it, inspecting the colourless potion.

"You must take all of it." Gandalf noted, "You'll be knocked out almost immediately which means that you won't have to bear with the awkward feeling of many eyes watching you as you try to sleep for long."

"That's good." Thorin concluded. Then, he uncorked the vial and swallowed the liquid quickly, wincing at the heat and bitter taste. Upon consummation, Thorin suddenly felt very dizzy and light headed, two dwarves whom he couldn't remember rushed to his side and helped him lie down. He remembered hearing many voices seemingly calling out his name, but that was the last thing he ever made out before the darkness took him and he began waiting for Bilbo to join him.

Six hours later, Thorin awoke, completely disoriented and mildly drugged – to the amusement of all of the Dwarves who enjoyed making him do and say silly things before he regained sense. Kíli was the one who particularly enjoyed his uncle's intoxication and took advantage of it the most however; he was also the one to suffer the most prior to Thorin's rehabilitation. Once the one-hour break was done, Thorin made way to his bedroll once more and warned the Dwarves of the new punishments that would occur if they were to repeat what they had so recently done during his intoxication. Kíli snickered at the warning but was smacked by Fíli, Dwalin and Balin quickly after. Then he re-entered the dream state with a glare in his youngest nephew's direction.

* * *

Bilbo laid on his bed, hugging his pillow to his chest as he closed his eyes and thought of Thorin. He constantly replayed their last meeting in his head and, suddenly, Bilbo felt very embarrassed in regards of his confession and the lack of reaction he had gotten from the Dwarf King. He then began to feel anxious and wondered if Thorin thought that his emotions were weird or if he was repelled by them. Before long, the hobbit was blushing furiously and regretting his confession sincerely when the screeching of his door abruptly distracted his mind. Bilbo sat up immediately as his master walked in calmly and wordlessly took a seat next to him on his bed. Then he sat motionlessly, his hands resting tensely on his lap as if he was trying to build up the nerve to engage in conversation.

"Mister Baggins," he said slowly, unknowingly interrupting Bilbo who was about to speak, "Have you cursed me?"

"What?" Bilbo blurted out almost immediately.

"Have you cursed me?" the Contractor repeated.

"No…" Bilbo replied giving his master an odd look, "Why would you think that?"

"Well, at first I thought that you might have poisoned me," the Contractor admitted, "However, I dismissed the idea because I don't think either of us have eaten anything since your arrival."

"But that's—" Bilbo then interrupted himself, he had a better memory than the Contractor and, as far as he too could remember, he hadn't even had a snack. "But…how is that—"

"Satiating one's hunger isn't vitally important in my home." The Contractor explained, "Now, back to the question at hand, did you curse me?"

"Why would you think I cursed you?" the hobbit asked, frowning in frustration.

"It seems that my heart beats faster in your presence," the Contractor stated as he peered at his chest as if his heart would be visible, "And when you're away and I think of you, it beats even faster. I don't think I have to tell you how abnormal that is."

Bilbo was glad that the Contractor wasn't looking in his direction because it meant he didn't have to hide his blush or explain it. "U-um…well…how's your stomach?" he asked in a stutter.

"What an irrelevant question." The Contractor stated, "Are you attempting to change the subject?"

"N-no…" Bilbo stated, "I just want to know if your stomach…feels weird…as if it's filled with knots or butterflies…" It honestly wouldn't have surprised Bilbo if the answer to that question was yes. The Contractor was so dull with identifying emotions that it would be normal for him not to notice that he had fallen in love. Though Bilbo hoped desperately that he was wrong. "Well?"

"If you must know," the Contractor stated, "My stomach is perfectly fine. I'm beginning to think that you have cursed me, Bilbo. I do hope that's not the case otherwise I will have to punish you—"

"I didn't curse you, I promise." Bilbo interrupted. He thought for a moment about the other 'symptoms' of being in love before continuing, however he hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to what he was about to ask, "What type of things do you imagine…about me?"

"Pardon?" the Contractor asked curiously.

"You said you thought of me, correct?" Bilbo asked, he felt his blush grow and moaned internally at the humiliation he was feeling, "Do you…imagine things?"

"I do not…" the Contractor answered slowly, "I merely recall the moments we spent together and how I enjoyed them…"

"Oh." Bilbo sighed.

"But…" Bilbo flinched and listened carefully as the Contractor continued, "I did feel a pang of pain before I dismissed you. And it still persists in memory…"

"Why is that…?" Bilbo asked.

The Contractor turned to look at him, and if he didn't have his hood covering half of his face, maybe Bilbo would have seen the melancholy his master bore. "I'm here." He nearly whispered. "You're not alone…"

Suddenly, Bilbo remembered the statement he had made about being alone. And though he hadn't meant that the Contractor was inexistent, he understood how his master could have misinterpreted what he had said. "I know—"

"Then why did you say you were alone?" the Contractor asked dryly.

"W-well, I didn't mean it like that…" Bilbo explained, "I just meant that…I wouldn't have a family."

"But I offered to make you a bride and a husband." The Contractor reminded.

"Yes but I mean a family linked to me by blood and not by name or love." Bilbo specified. "If I hadn't summoned you, I would have been in the Shire. And though I would have been a bachelor, I would still have had a family because Frodo would have been with me."

"I see…" the Contractor concluded, "Then would you like for me to make you a new cousin by using your blood?"

"M-my blood!?" Bilbo squeaked.

"Yes." The Contractor confirmed, "You said that you would be alone forever because you wouldn't have a family linked to you by blood. I can take some of your blood and make a cousin for you thus you would have a family and you wouldn't be alone anymore."

"Why…why do you offer me these things?" Bilbo asked confused and yet, strangely flattered. "I'm supposed to be your servant…"

"Am I suppose to detest my servant?" the Contractor asked puzzled, "Am I not allowed to show kindness or gratitude to the one caring for me? I've been alone for so long and I do tend to forget to catch up with the world; you'll have to forgive me if I haven't been treating you the way a master should treat his servant."

"Well, from what I remember servants are treated rather poorly—"

"Thus you wish abuse?" the Contractor concluded.

"No, no, no!" Bilbo assured hastily, "I'm just saying—well, never mind that. I'm quite content with the compassion you've been showing me. Not only have you been fair (enough) with me, but you've given me so many privileges and even comforted me at times—"

"And you wish for me to stop doing so?" the Contractor asked.

"Not at all!" Bilbo said, then he smiled, "I'm thanking you."

"…you cursed me didn't you?" the Contractor asked after a pause.

"I said I haven't." Bilbo chuckled.

"My…heart is beating faster…" he commented, looking down at his chest again.

"Maybe you're feeling bashful." Bilbo suggested, "Or something like that; it's definitely related to joy."

"And how do you suppose we stop it…?" the Contractor asked uneasily as he clenched at his chest, "I don't enjoy this sensation at all…"

"Um…I'm not really sure." Bilbo admitted with a small laugh, "Eventually you'll get used to it and it shouldn't bother you anymore."

"I don't want to wait." The Contractor stated almost childishly, "How do we stop it immediately?"

"I honestly don't know," Bilbo smiled, "But it can't be that bad…maybe you should try breathing?"

"Breathing isn't of vital importance in my home." The Contractor noted, "Though it seems that you've been doing it all the same…"

"Then you should try it as well." Bilbo concluded, though he was rather surprise to hear that the Contractor didn't breathe unless it was necessary. "It helps to calm oneself."

And so Bilbo showed the Contractor breathing exercises and when the latter had asked him when and why he had learned such things, Bilbo was rather embarrassed to admit it was due to this anxiety. He admitted to being unable to cope with inconsistency and things that were generally unexpected, however that problem had faded after thirteen Dwarves had given him the shock of his life.

Once the Contractor deemed that the annoying emotion he felt had finally left, Bilbo asked him about food. "How long has it been since your last meal?" he asked.

"I can't remember." The Contractor admitted, though it was evident that he wasn't trying to remember.

"Do you not eat because there's nothing to make meals with?" Bilbo queried.

"No, the thought of eating just never occurred to me." The former admitted. "It's not much of a problem really, you should have noticed, you haven't eaten since you've arrived and you haven't complained once."

"I know but now I miss the flavours of food." Bilbo admitted sheepishly, "Perhaps I could make us something? I'm an avid cook you know."

"I suppose…" the Contractor mumbled, "I don't think I have anything I'd like to do before hand…"

Bilbo smiled and jumped off his bed, offering his hand to his master as to help him to his feet. Then the two scaled down the damp stairs of the tower and crossed the main hall, pausing in front of the room in which resided the Eye. The Contractor stared at his servant quizzically but soon concluded that Bilbo wanted to check on Thorin quickly before proceeding to making food.

"Shall I go fetch the ingredients?" he suggested. "You remember where the kitchen is, do you not? Come see me there once you're done."

"Oh…well, okay." Bilbo replied, flustered. "M-make sure they're fresh."

"…what do you mean?" the Contractor asked.

"Well…not rotten?" Bilbo tried, unsure how to explain what he meant.

"I see…" the Contractor mumbled to himself before proceeding through the dark hallway.

And for a moment, Bilbo worried about what his master would bring for him to cook. However, he shrugged the worry away and entered the room, a little less conscious about the fact that the Contractor could remember what he had once forbade. And although it was no secret that he was about to use the Eye, Bilbo still closed the door because he wasn't sure whether he would still risk speaking to Thorin or not.

He summoned the image of his friends as he always did once he had calmed his nerves but was surprised to find them huddled around Thorin. At first, Bilbo had assumed he was sleeping but then he noticed just how quiet the company was and he soon feared the worse. The hobbit looked over his shoulder quickly and listened carefully for the sound of the Contractor returning. When he deemed that it was safe to enter the Eye, he quickly jumped in hoping to be reassured by Thorin. Though he was propelled out of the Eye as soon as he entered. He hadn't even gotten the time to catch a proper glimpse of the Dwarf King let alone have his worries put to ease.

The moaned lightly and rubbed the back of his head, semi conscious about the fact that he had rammed it against the wall accidently. Slowly, Bilbo moved his gaze towards the Eye, puzzled by the fact that it had rejected him. His heart stopped when he noticed that the colourless orb was glowing oddly and that no image painted its blank surface. It then occurred to Bilbo that the reason the Contractor had previously gotten so mad about his discovery was probably because the magikal object couldn't tolerate such a use. He might have been banned from it in order to protect the only link his master had with Middle Earth. Nonetheless, it didn't matter anymore because Bilbo was near sure he broke it. And, like a child wishing to flee his mistake, Bilbo jumped to his feet and ran away from the room to join the Contractor in the kitchen.

* * *

Thorin awoke from his dream state with a violent jolt. It was as Gandalf said, the second Bilbo had tried to join him in his dream, he awoke and, hopefully, a gateway had been created. Judging by the excited and awed expressions overtaking his company's face, the Dwarf King knew that, behind him, was the portal Gandalf had said he could create. Their plan had worked and now they had to engage in the most perilous part of their journey – travelling elsewhere to find and save Bilbo.

"Can you stand?" Dwalin asked, he seemed to have been the only one able to tare his attention away from the glowing entryway.

"S'ink so…" Thorin slurred and attempted to get to his feet but failed.

"Great, you're still drugged." Dwalin groaned as he reached down to yank his King to his feet.

"Not to worry," Gandalf reassured, "I made a sort of antidote to annul the effects as quickly as possible."

The wizard then passed a vile filled with a pinkish liquid and ushered Thorin to drink it. However, it was soon made evident that the King was in no current condition to be doing anything on his own, and so Dwalin was the one who helped him drink. Once the antidote had been administered, it had only been a question of mere seconds before Thorin was able to speak without a slur and finally stand on his own. Nonetheless they waited an additional ten minutes as to be sure that Thorin was in a condition to proceed to the most dangerous part of their task.

"Before we continue to the final part of our journey," Thorin began, "I wish to make the dangers clear. We do not know what will await us on the other end of this portal. We could meet directly with Bilbo Baggins, which would be ideal, or we might meet with the Contractor himself. I've heard Gandalf tell the lads about this Elfish prison in which we are about to venture in. He said that it took a lot of magik and even some life energy to create and could be potentially life threatening to even the most powerful of Elves. Thus, he concluded that we should not be met with dangerous creatures and that there should only be two beings on the other side of that door. But this said, it doesn't lesser the danger that will await us. The Contractor shall be a powerful foe and I will be awed if we are able to leave without a scratch or without a few losses. You've all been dear and loyal friends to me and I do not wish to lose any of you. So now, before we enter, I give you the option to stay safe or follow me to your doom. Do not feel obliged to follow."

A moment of consideration was shared amongst the company in hushed whispers. However, the conversations hastily voiced where merely the woes and worries of the older Dwarves who attempted to discourage the younger ones or those with a family to care for. However, it seemed that the Dwarves who were meant to be discouraged to follow were actually those the most set on travelling to a different world. And before long, the company announced that they would unanimously follow Thorin to the depths of Mordor if need ever be.

"Though we hope it won't come to that." Gloín joked.

"Then follow me." Thorin smiled. He drew his sword and, without the slightest bit of hesitation, he jumped into the glowing gateway.

* * *

"You seem nervous." The Contractor noted as Bilbo entered the room. "Has something happened?"

"No." Bilbo answered too quickly, which caused his voice to crack, "Everything's perfectly fine."

"Then perhaps you can begin to cook now." The Contractor said gesturing the many things he had placed on the table. Though Bilbo was surprised by the variety of ingredients, most of them were rotted and mouldy – it seemed that the Contractor couldn't differentiate fresh from putrid. And if the ingredients weren't either of the previously mentioned, then they were stale or simply inedible – not because they were disgusting but more because they weren't comestible.

"I don't think I can do anything with this…" Bilbo stated, holding in a grimace once he caught a whiff of the horrible stench. "I'm afraid they're all rotten."

"They are?" the Contractor asked surprised.

"Yes." Bilbo confirmed poking a nauseatingly coloured apple and frantically swinging the gunk trapped to his finger in the air. "I thought time had no rule in your home…"

"Well that's not entirely false." The Contractor stated, "I choose what time will affect and it seems that I have forgotten to immune food. No matter, a simple spell can fix this problem."

Without further ado, the Contractor mumbled a quick spell and the rotten, stale, inedible food resting on the table began to glow so bright that Bilbo couldn't help but avert his gaze. When the light calmed down thus revealing the food, the hobbit was amazed to see that everything was perfectly ripe and seemed very appetizing. "Incredible…" he mumbled in pure awe.

"Not really," the Contractor stated, "It's basic magik. Though it's more than unnecessary in my home considering that eating is not of vital importance."

"Still," Bilbo insisted, "I've never seen anything like that done before."

"That's not true." The Contractor objected, "I turned back time until the food was just right just like I turned back time to save those three. The only difference is that they weren't rotten. Speaking of those three, how are they fairing?"

"G-good…I think…" Bilbo mumbled nervously.

* * *

Gandalf, Thorin and company found themselves in a rather small, circular room. The walls were made of cold stone worn by time. And though they all wore rather thick leather boots, the frost seemed to ease through the leathery confines and attack their feet. However their thoughts in regards to the abnormally cold temperature was soon diverted when someone mentioned Bilbo Baggins.

"Where is he?" Bofur asked, peering around the room.

"Well he's not here, that's for sure." Kíli concluded.

"He must have left frightened," Gandalf concluded pushing the only door open, wincing at the screeching sound it made. "If he were taken by the Contractor, one might assumed that he would have locked the door in order to stall us."

"Fair enough." Thorin agreed as he took the lead. "We'll need to be very quiet. From here on, only speak if necessary."

With a sharp nod on the company's part; Thorin poked his head out of the room first and lead the way into the dark and damp corridor. He glared at the wet carpet when it sloshed beneath his feet with every step and soon concluded it would be best to walk next to it. Thus he gestured his comrades from the carpet and wearily peered systematically at both ends of the grim hallway. They seemed to be currently located in the middle or near it so now the Dwarf King had to decide in which way they would proceed when Bombur spoke.

"Do you smell that?" he whispered a little too loudly.

"Smell what?" Dwalin whispered back harshly.

The bigger Dwarf sniffed the air noisily and suddenly headed into one direction, "It smells like food this way." He noted.

"Then let's _not_ go that way!" Gloín schooled.

"No, but it smells really familiar…" Bombur insisted as he followed his nose. Before long he was trotting down the hallway with the rest of the company chasing after him, frantically whispering protests and pleas for him to stop. However, whenever it came to food, it was hopeless to have Bombur behave properly thus they all drew their weapons and followed him as quietly as possible, ready to attack the second an unfriendly face would reveal itself.

They pushed by many doors and snaked through confusing hallways before finally arriving in front of a set of twin doors from which the smell of delicious food was emitted. At this point, the scent was evident to all who didn't have as refined a sense of smell as Bombur. "Do you think he's cooking?" Dori whispered.

"We'll have to see for ourselves." Gandalf whispered back.

The wizard sent a look in Thorin's direction and gave him a sharp nod indicating that they were ready whenever he was. The Dwarf King took a quiet but deep breath and shared an individual look with each member of his company. Then, wordlessly, he pushed pass the doors violently and ran into the kitchen but soon came to an abrupt halt when his eyes locked with Bilbo. The hobbit was stunned and stop in mid motion whatever he was doing with a thick amount of dough and the tall hooded man next to him seemed just as surprised.

"Tho…rin?"


	9. The Battle for Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Okay, so some of you may know that I had a lot of trouble with this chapter because I was VERY indecisive with what I should do xP**
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> **Nonetheless, here it is and I think I did a pretty good job!**
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> **So this is the second last chapter, and I urge you to tell me in the review section what you want to know in the epilogue as to answer all of your questions. I already know what I want to put in the epilogue however, maybe I'd be forgetting something you would want to know...**
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> **SO ASK ME AND I WILL ANSWER NEXT CHAPTER (if it's pertinent, if it isn't then I'll answer you directly xP)**
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> **Now, ENJOY, and don't forget to review and fav while you're down there!**
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> **PS: Special thanks to Megs, Lettervreter and Gideondorf for their elaborated input on what I should do! Although I wanted the mere necessary, you gave me more and it actually helped a lot! So thank you very much!**
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> **PSS: I read all of the votes that were given (thanks for voting) and 56% of you said that I should do intellectual but it wasn't a high enough percentage, so I did what 54% of you suggested which was both.**
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> BTW, does anyone get an update whenever I edit chapters? Just curious xP

Gandalf sent a look in Thorin's direction and gave him a sharp nod indicating that they were ready whenever he was. The Dwarf King took a quiet but deep breath and shared an individual look with each member of his company. Then, wordlessly, he pushed pass the doors violently and ran into the kitchen but soon came to an abrupt halt when his eyes locked with Bilbo. The hobbit was stunned and stop in mid motion whatever he was doing with a thick amount of dough and the tall hooded man next to him seemed just as surprised.

"Tho…rin?"

"Bilbo—"

Without thinking, the company dashed forward, wanting nothing but to close the gap between them and the one whom they sought. However, before a step could be made, the Contractor pushed his hand forth and, with his magik, shoved the armed lot away. The force exerted had been so powerful and abrupt that all the Dwarves – and even Gandalf – lost foot and fell. Though none of them lingered on the floor for long; they quickly jumped back to their feet and were ready to resume their efforts when, with a roar, the Contractor set the entire kitchen alit.

Fire blazed from all sides and on all surfaces, quickly masking the heavenly odour of Bilbo's cooking with black smelling smoke. The flames quickly encircled the company of Dwarves, separating them from their goal however; taming fire was something easily placed in Gandalf's control. Stabbing his staff on the stone floor while muttering a spell, the flames disappeared as quickly as they had first appeared.

"What is the meaning of this!?" The Contractor growled, grabbing Bilbo protectively with an arm, "How did you enter my realm!?"

"That's none of your concern!" Dwalin snapped.

"Yeah! Give us the hobbit!" Ori chimed.

Darkness suddenly pervaded the room as the air rumbled audibly with the Contractor's words, "Bilbo Baggins is mine!" subconsciously; he gripped the hobbit tighter, causing the latter great discomfort, "Leave my home now before I break my promise!"

"We're not leaving without Bilbo!" Bofur declared.

"Then I'm afraid you won't be leaving alive either!" the Contractor hissed, raising his hand high above his head.

Just before he could cast a deadly spell, Bilbo broke away from his master's grasp and placed himself between he and the company. "Stop!" He demanded, spreading his arms protectively, "Don't hurt them!"

Slowly, the Contractor lowered his hand, glaring and yet scrutinizing his servant who had dared defend invaders. Evidently, he was perplexed by the determination in Bilbo's eyes but soon remembered that, in a different past, they had been his friends. "You…" he hissed at Bilbo, "You brought them here!"

"W-what?" Bilbo flinched, "No I didn't!"

"Of course you did!" The Contractor rationalized, "That's why you were nervous, wasn't it? You summoned them and feared discovery!"

"I-I swear I didn't!" Bilbo stuttered nervously.

"He's telling the truth." Gandalf said calmly, "Bilbo has nothing to do with how we arrived here."

The Contractor glared at the wizard but then lowered his arm, allowing all to relax for a brief moment. Then he gestured his servant to return to his side and, although he hesitated to do so, Bilbo complied with the demand. Placing a possessive hand on Bilbo's shoulder who, averted the company's gaze, he said: "Did you see? Without a word nor a forceful gesture, Bilbo Baggins has returned to my side. He doesn't want to leave and he's not allowed to leave."

"What do you mean he doesn't want to leave!?" Fíli yelled, "He didn't ask to be trapped in this castle for the rest of eternity!"

"No but he chose to do so." The Contractor replied, then he turned to Bilbo, "Curious how someone who was meant to have forgotten you knows so much about your situation."

"I…" but the rest of the sentence was lost in Bilbo's mind.

"No matter," the Contractor said dismissively, "As I've said, Bilbo is here because he chose to be here. He made a deal with me; if I were to bring back the King and his two nephews, he would pledge to be my servant eternally. As you can see, I brought all three back."

"We didn't agree to this!" Kíli barked.

"That was because you had no say in the matter." The Contractor said sharply, "However, if you like, I can take your life and that of your brother and uncle, and restore the past to what it once was."

Kíli immediately shut his mouth and looked away whereas the rest of the company glared daggers at the powerful man.

"Though…if I were to do that," the Contractor mused, "Consequently, I would lose my servant and I do not wish for that…"

"Then I suggest we engage in a challenge – or rather a duel." Gandalf suggested slyly, "If we win, Bilbo Baggins may return with us, and, if we lose, we will leave quietly and never return."

Though some of the members of the company did protest with the conditions set in place, none of them argued with Gandalf because they knew if the wizard had voiced such a suggestion, he had a plan. For an old man, he was fairly calculative and it was a miracle he hadn't yet lost his head and, for that, the company – and a lot of other people for that matter – were grateful.

"And how would we choose this challenge?" the Contractor asked curiously.

"Of course, it's unfair if we were to combine our forces against you," Gandalf stated, "So I suggest that you choose one adversary and base your duel off your opponent."

The company was silent – most of them prayed that they wouldn't have to face with such a powerful foe but, soon, their worry was appeased. The Contractor's eyes quickly rested upon Thorin who had been relatively quiet for a while now. "Him." He said, "My opponent shall be King Thorin of Erebor."

"I accept." Thorin replied immediately, determination flashing in his eyes.

"And the manner in which you shall duel?" Gandalf asked.

"A battle of the blades, of course." Thorin responded.

"I object." The Contractor opposed, "I am not particularly skilled in melee confrontation thus I would be at a disadvantage. I would much rather confront you on an intellectual level."

"What!? But that would be unfair for uncle!" Kíli exclaimed, though every member of the company – including Gandalf – soon hit him.

"I didn't mean that he was stupid…" the young prince muttered, crossed.

"It seems we've reached an impasse." The Contractor stated with a sigh, "Do you have any suggestions, wizard?"

"Not at the moment…" Gandalf admitted, "Allow me a moment of reflection—"

"I-I have an idea…" Bilbo stuttered; he flushed brightly when all eyes turned to him. "How about a game of riddles?"

"What a horrible idea for a duel." Thorin condescended.

"Not for a duel!" Bilbo snapped, vexed, "I mean, how about a game of riddles and the victor decides what the duel shall be?"

"That's not a bad idea…" The Contractor said, "And who would ask the questions?"

"I guess I could." Bilbo offered, "I've always loved riddles so…"

"Then it's settled," Gandalf declared, "Shall we say five riddles then?"

"Yes." The Contractor agreed. "Go ahead Bilbo, tell us the first one."

As the hobbit thought, Thorin deeply loathed the given situation. Although it wasn't the duel itself, but merely a challenge that would greatly influence the event to follow, it was horribly frustrating. Thorin never had much talent in deducing the answers of riddles. He was straight forward and hated when others spoke in parables. Nonetheless, he didn't want to refuse the option voiced by Bilbo because Kíli had already devalued his intelligence and thus, he would have to do his best to win this first round.

"I have one." Bilbo declared, "What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?"

Thorin was immediately irritated by the first enigma – he was starting to think that maybe Bilbo really didn't want to leave. However, he soon concluded that the reason for such a thought was caused by his frustration. Now, he had to concentrate; he thought hard and well, repeating the sentence in his head continuously and suggesting answers.

_Wind? Wrong, it speaks. Time? Wrong, the answer is irrelevant to too many of the hints. Maybe it's—_

"A river." The Contractor concluded calmly, surprising everyone who had been deep in thought. "The answer is a river."

"C-correct." Bilbo smiled, though it was evidently a fake one, "Next…It walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon and three legs in the evening. What is it?"

If it wouldn't have been for the fact that Thorin had heard the next puzzle countless times in his childhood, he never would have answered it so quickly. "A baby, an adult, and an elder." He said quickly.

"Correct." Bilbo smiled.

"An elder…?" Kíli asked, whispering to his brother.

"Some of the older folk walk with canes," Fíli whispered in return, "That would be the third leg."

"Next." The Contractor demanded.

"Uhh, yes – let me think." Bilbo said and pondered, "Ripped from my mother's womb, beaten and burned, I become a blood thirsty killer. What am I?"

Another tricky one. Thorin's heart began to race as he quickly rationalised what the answer could be. The riddle was excessively poetic in his opinion, which added to his frustration; however, the second line stuck in his head. 'Beaten and burned'; something about that part seemed horribly familiar. And suddenly, Thorin remembered his time as a smith after his home had been taken by Smaug.

"Ore. Iron ore." He answered hesitantly. "Beaten and burned, the ore is being fashioned into a blade and then it becomes a blood thirsty killer."

"Correct again," Bilbo confirmed, and his smile seemed to grow. He paused for just a moment before announcing the next riddle, "If you have it, you'd like to share it. If you share it, you haven't got it. What is it?"

Thorin was fully aware that, if he answered the riddle correctly, the game would end and he could challenge the Contractor to his advantage. However, this particular parable seemed unnaturally difficult and wasn't something the King could easily relate to his life – as far as he was concerned. There were many things that could potentially fit the description however; none of them seemed to make particular sense.

"A secret, I believe." The Contractor said.

The company released a breath of disappointment that none of them realised they had been holding. However, some hope returned for a brief moment because Bilbo hadn't yet said whether the answer was proper or not. The hobbit seemed to feel their disappointment for he hesitated to answer, "Correct."

"One more left." Gandalf said.

Bilbo nodded and pondered, attempting to remember a particularly difficult riddle. "If you break me, I do not stop working," he began with a soft smile, "If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?"

Whoever would be able to answer the final riddle would thus determine the outcome of the duel. Thorin, like the rest of the company, felt the pressure and did his best to ignore the stress. However, he could barely concentrate what with the noisy beating of his heart and the knowledge of what failing meant. He had to think, he needed to save Bilbo. But, like the last enigma, it seemed as though it was far too complicated for his tastes and he immediately began to loath it.

Then, searching around the room for a hint, a sign or just a suggestion, he began to feel hopeless. Discouraged, he knew it was only a matter of time before the Contractor would solve the final puzzle and gain the upper hand. And he felt terrible. He had promised Bilbo that he would save him, and it was the least he could do for the hobbit that had loved him and his nephews so much that he was ready to sacrifice his future and, ultimately, his life.

_If you break me…_

He must have felt so torn, so _broken_ when they had died in another past.

 _I do not stop working_ …

Yet that love must have been _strong_ because it _persevered_ for so long.

_If you touch me, I may be snared…_

Now that Thorin thought about it, he wondered when Bilbo had fallen for him – when the other's heart had been _touched_ by him.

_If you lose me…_

But that question was soon to be made irrelevant when he would lose. He was about to _lose_ Bilbo and condemn the reason they had embarked on such a perilous journey. His efforts, his research, abandoning his kingdom in its time of need to chase after a vague memory of a different past; all of it will have been for naught all because he found himself unable to answer a stupid riddle. Now he hated them even more.

Thorin turned his desolated gaze to Bilbo, he didn't dare voice his loss until it actually happened however, the expression on his face expressed more specifically just how sorry he truly felt. And when Bilbo returned his stare and smiled gently, as if to comfort Thorin whom he loved so dearly, something clicked within the Dwarf King's mind.

_If you break me…_

Bilbo's smile broke temporarily as he mouthed something – probably an apology; Thorin was lost in his realisation.

_I do not stop working…_

The hobbit then blushed lightly, though Thorin didn't know why because he hadn't noticed that he had begun to fix Bilbo.

_If you touch me…_

Thorin suddenly remembered the most frequent dream he had in regards of Bilbo. The one in which they stood atop Carrock as the sun was setting, embracing one another.

 _I may be snared_ …

Thorin gasped.

_If you lose me…_

"It's love, isn't it?" The Contractor said.

_Nothing will matter…_

"I'm afraid…" Bilbo replied slowly, "I'm afraid it isn't…"

"Then what is it?" The Contractor asked, slightly annoyed that he hadn't deduced the answer properly.

"It's a heart." Thorin said confidently.

Bilbo's expression lit up, "It is." He confirmed, desperately trying to control his excessive joy.

"Then, with that, the match is done and Thorin is the victor." Gandalf concluded with a content sigh. "In what manner do you wish to fight the Contractor?"

Thorin's gaze lingered on Bilbo affectionately for a moment. He felt something flowery in the pit of his stomach and he wasn't sure what it meant, however he knew it fuelled his determination to win. Now that he had the upper hand, all he would have to do was choose something in which he could not lose and fight the Contractor.

"A battle of the blades, of course!" Dwalin growled, "Now let's get on with it."

"Choose your weapon." Thorin said pulling out the Elven sword at his waist, "I've already chosen mine."

With a glare and a snap of the fingers, the Contractor summoned a sword with a very thin blade. It floated before him and, with a few dry wrist movements; he swung the blade without touching it. "I believe I'm ready." He said. "Bilbo, do stand back. I do not wish for you to get hurt."

"Hey! Isn't that cheating?" Gloín asked.

"No," the Contractor answered, "I am wielding a weapon."

"But you're not touching it!" Dori protested.

"I never said my weapon was the sword." The Contractor replied, "Your King has told me to choose my weapon and I have chosen my magik."

"But that's not what he meant—"

"It's what he said." The Contractor hissed back, interrupting the Dwarf.

The company would have irrupted in a cacophony of whining and protesting, if they had been able to move their lips. The Contractor had taken the liberty to silence them all at once and binding them into place; wishing for the disturbances to cease their interruptions. Now that they were gagged with his magik, he and Thorin could concentrate on themselves. With another snap of his fingers, the kitchen and the surroundings suddenly disappeared and all found themselves floating in darkness. Most of the company shrieked and staggered, but once they realised that there was a sort of floor beneath their feet, they relaxed.

"Shall we begin?" the Contractor asked slyly.

Thorin raised his sword and pointed the tip at his opponent. The hooded man, almost camouflaged in the darkness, frowned deeply and, without warning, swung his sword from a distance. The thin blade whistled through the air and nearly stabbed the Dwarf King in the face, but the latter evaded the blow at the last second. The floating weapon continued its swift movements with a chain of rapid lethal attacks that were either blocked or dodged by its target. Finally, Thorin found an opening allowing him to counter attack the hovering sword. He countered just as quickly as the sword had attacked; however, all of his swings were blocked efficiently.

"I do believe that I'm not half bad at melee." The Contractor noted as he continued to block Thorin's blows.

"This isn't melee!" The Dwarf King retorted.

"It's close enough." The Contractor said, then he raised his spare hand which glowed red.

But Thorin was so absorbed in his battle with the hovering blade that he hadn't notice it had been leading him away and exposing his back. Actually, no one had noticed the Contractor's ruse except for Bilbo who only realised what his master's strategy was at the last second.

"Thorin!" Bilbo called out, then quickly slapped his hands over his mouth when the Contractor shot him a glare.

Nonetheless, the call had done it's deed; the Dwarf King turned towards Bilbo's voice and consequently noticed the fireball hurled in his direction. Backing away from the sword and spinning out of the fire's trajectory, Thorin successfully evaded both attacks and sent a glare at his opponent, " _That's_ cheating!"

"I conquer," the Contractor argued, "Some warriors wield swords or axes in both hands, why shouldn't I be allowed to do the same with my weapon?"

"Because your weapon is magik!" Thorin replied sharply.

"And yet you told me to choose my weapon without imposing restrictions." The Contractor reminded with a grin, "That was your fault, not mine."

Growling, Thorin charged the Contractor, readying Orcrist to deliver a blow directly on his challenger. The Contractor immediately retaliated by launching more fire which was easily dodged by Thorin who moved quickly and gracefully. The ground between both opponents was shrinking rapidly and the Contractor's aim was becoming sloppy and frantic. Seeing his chance, Thorin raised his sword and shouted as he brought it down upon his adversary. However, he had forgotten about the enchanted sword that flew in between the two at the last possible moment. Quickly altering his swing, the Dwarf King managed to block the blade once more, all the while cussing in irritation.

He jumped back, creating a new gap, and glared at the Contractor who seemed relieved. However, the minor set back was not enough to keep Thorin's fury at bay and thus, he tried his luck again, charging the Contractor. Of course, the hovering sword wouldn't allow Thorin to get much closer than he already was. Interrupting his charge, the sword engaged in another rapid chain of attacks, which Thorin was forced to block. In addition, the blows of the sword were so powerful that they caused him to have to back away in order to absorb the power and not lose balance.

As the gap between the Contractor and Thorin grew larger, the latter's frustration rose. Filled with rage, he countered the enchanted blade's latest swing and unleashed his furry. The sword soon found itself overpowered by Thorin who didn't let up his attacks and still managed to dodge the fire thrown his way. Finally, the last blow he delivered to the sword was enough to split it in halves surprising everyone witnessing the battle – even Thorin himself.

Grinning victoriously, he charged the Contractor again but was quickly pushed back by his magik, "This is ridiculous." The Contractor hissed bitterly.

"If you think so, then we should just end it now!" Thorin retorted as he got back to his feet. "Give us Bilbo and we will be on our way!"

"Oh I _will_ end this now." The Contractor responded, something bordering hysteria lingering in his voice. "But I will not give you Bilbo! He is rightfully mine!"

"Suit yourself—"

Thorin would have charged the Contractor again however, another blast of magik toppled him over. When he got up again, the Contractor was glowing red and his body was contorted oddly and twitching frantically. He suddenly began to shout absurdly loud but, as it continued, it began to sound like the familiar roars of a dragon…

Wings suddenly sprouted from the Contractor's back, ripping through his black robe. His hands and feet became red, scaled, clawed paws, and a tale grew quickly from his back side. Then, the Contractor started to grow, and what flesh was left turned to scales as the black fabric covering it was torn. In the end, when the morph was complete, the Contractor had turned into an exact replica of the mighty Smaug who had been defeated long ago.

"Wha…" Thorin mumbled in awe.

"Now _that's_ really unfair!" Kíli complained, but then his face lit up, "Oh, I can speak!"

"Never mind that!" Dwalin barked in return as he pulled his war-hammer from his back, "Grab your weapon and join your King!"

The Company quickly unsheathed their weapons and ran to Thorin's side. But the Contractor quickly noticed that his binding spell had been released and hurried to restore it. However, he could not capture all the Dwarves and it took excess energy to keep Gandalf confined, thus he was still faced with Thorin, Fíli, Bofur, Bifur, Gloín and Nori.

"This duel is escalating quickly." Nori snorted as he readied his weapon.

"That took place long before his transformation." Thorin corrected, "It's a battle more than anything now."

"How do you suppose we defeat him?" Fíli asked, brandishing his short swords with anticipation.

"The same way we defeated Smaug the first time." Thorin replied.

"But we don't have Bard…" Gloín said.

"We'll have to manage without him!" Thorin growled, then he turned to face the brave Dwarves who dared to stand by his side in such a perilous situation, "I thank you all for your loyalty."

The Contractor roared horribly and batted his wings violently; creating powerful winds that threatened to throw the Dwarves off balance. Nonetheless, they braved the powerful wind and charged when the opportunity was given. Their goal was to deal with the beast's legs first and deal with the rest once it was incapacitated. However, the Contractor would not fall so easily; he immediately began to spit fire, burning the top point of Nori's star-shaped hair. And once they got near his paws, the Contractor began to stomp powerfully, nearly crushing the little annoyances countless times.

Nevertheless, Bifur still managed to evade all of the dragon's counterattacks and stab his lance into one of the Contractor's hind ankles. Once he began to howl in pain, he was distracted long enough for the remaining members of the company to attack the hind ankles as well, adding to the inflicted pain. In consequence, the spell casted on the company lessened and Dwalin and Dori joined the fight.

However, the Contractor regained his senses and quickly repelled the painful assault. Again, the company had to charge the dragon, dodging fire and enormous claws that threatened to crush them once they were too close. They repeated the assault with the same results, the Contractor was again distracted, the spell lessened, and Kíli and Ori were freed.

Ori, hesitant but determined, ran to the others' side and took out his slingshot – not necessarily aware of what good it could do against such a powerful foe. Kíli, on the other hand, stayed where he was and drew his bow. He fished through his arrows for a specific black headed one – he had fashioned it just like Bard's arrows after being inspired by the hero and newly appointed leader of Lake Town. Then, he readied his shot and waited for an opening – specifically for the Contractor to raise himself on his hind legs again thus revealing the soft flesh hidden on his chest and belly.

The next assault the company launched had been the last; for when the Contractor roared in pain and did just what Kíli had been waiting for, the latter released his arrow. The black headed projectile flew through the darkness with a faint whistle that the Contractor heard when it was far too late. The arrow sliced through the unprotected flesh with great ease and reached his heart. With a horrendous cry, forcing all those present to cover their ears, the Contractor slowly began to shrink and regain his original appearance.

Now the villain, the foe that had played with words and turned himself into a dragon resembling the worst calamity Erebor had ever faced, laid defeated. All gathered around him slowly; for the first time, he wasn't dressed and his face, which had always been hidden, was now revealed. He wasn't an Elf, to the surprise of most. His small, rounded ears indicated that he was a Man who had probably been blessed – or rather cursed with the ability to perform magik. He was also a relatively handsome man; his black curled hair, his pale yet pure skin, his high cheekbones, and his gentle features would have lead most to believe that he was a decent fellow with a good heart. But the company knew better now.

"Let's finish this and go home." Thorin said, he waited for a nod of approbation from his friends before raising his sword and lined it as to severe the Contractor's head.

"Stop!" Bilbo cried.

The company had forgotten about the hobbit what with the epic battle that had been developing and threatening the success of their quest. Thorin, confused and mildly irritated by the demand, reluctantly lowered his sword, "And why would I do that?"

"Well, for one thing," Bilbo began, approaching the group, "He's not dead and that wouldn't kill him. If anything, it would just irritate him."

"How is that possible!?" Kíli asked a little too loudly, "I shot him and my arrow pierced his heart! In fact, it's still lodged in his chest!"

"And what an irritating thing it is." The Contractor moaned, regaining consciousness. He sat up slowly, and, after he breathed for a short moment, ripped the arrow from his chest with a small groan of pain.

"How does that make sense!?" Dwalin shouted, "What sorcery is this!?"

"This is my realm." The Contractor reminded calmly. "I control time, space and lives. Consequently, I can't die here."

"Well you've still lost!" Bofur said.

"Yeah, we get to leave with Master Baggins!" Ori chimed.

And at that, the Contractor seemed upset. He turned his gaze to Bilbo, who was taken aback by the expression his eyes beheld. The hobbit had never seen his master's face, not since the moment he had first arrived. The man's blue eyes were filled with sorrow, pain and loss.

"I suppose…" he mumbled absently, "I must respect the conditions imposed…"

Then, he snapped his fingers and they all found themselves in the rotten castle's kitchen again. The entire company was pleasantly surprised to find themselves in a location where there where walls, floors and furniture were visible to the eye. Their attention soon shifted back to the Contractor who was attempting to stand with great difficulty what with the wounds inflicted on his wrists and ankles. Bilbo soon leapt to his side and offered himself as support – an action that provoked some sort of anger within Thorin.

"Why don't you just heal yourself…?" Bilbo asked in a whisper, "It would be easier—"

"I wish to keep feeling this excruciating pain." The Contractor said, "Do not question my actions any longer."

"So…what now?" Kíli asked generally.

"Now," the Contractor answered as he stood upright, "You leave and Bilbo Baggins has the option to follow you or not."

"And what about our memories of him?" Balin asked. "Will we remember this different past and our previous relations with Bilbo?"

"I don't know." The Contractor sighed angrily, "Now leave. In any case, I never promised anything other than the abandon of Bilbo if I ever lost."

"Fine," Thorin said in a low growl, "Come Bilbo Baggins. It's time for us to go home."

The hobbit suddenly seemed hesitant. Slowly, he released the helping grip he had on his master and watched as the other supported himself. Then, he noticed that the Contractor didn't dare look at his direction. "What's wrong?" Bilbo asked in a whisper for private purposes.

"You're leaving…" the Contractor answered, "Isn't it normal to be upset?"

"But I've never seen you display so much emotion before…" Bilbo said.

"It's as I've said before," the Contractor reminded, "You've changed me Bilbo, and I'm not sure whether that was a good thing or not. Perhaps you really did poison me…"

Bilbo smiled, "I didn't. I promise I didn't." he said softly.

"I think…" the Contractor began slowly, "I think I feel them now…the butterflies you were talking about…"

"And do you know what they mean?" Bilbo asked kindly.

"…I haven't the slightest clue." The Contractor admitted.

"Then I won't tell you." Bilbo said, "I don't wish to cause you any more grief."

"Bilbo?" the Contractor asked after a moment of silence, "Are…were we friends?"

The hobbit's smile softened; he opened his arms and embraced the Contractor who slowly returned the act of affection. Of course, Thorin was much displeased with the contact mostly because the Contractor was still butt naked. "I'd say we were and still are." Bilbo answered, looking up at the taller man, "Farewell now. And take care."

And just when Bilbo was about to release the other man from his embrace, the Contractor tightened his own on his servant and whispered something into his ear. Bilbo froze for a moment and nodded slowly. Then, the Contractor released him to his turn and forced a smile mirroring his only friend's.

"Farewell." The Contractor said.

* * *

It was weird to find himself in Middle Earth after such a long absence. He may have observed his friends through the Eye but not much of a big portion of his world, nor his home, had been revealed to him in that time. Though Bilbo was content to be back among his friends and the place, he had lived in for such a great portion of his life. Nonetheless, there was still one problem: the company and Gandalf still couldn't remember him which was probably at the base of the awkward silence between them.

"Um…" Bilbo said after the portal created by Gandalf closed indefinitely. All eyes turned to him, gesturing that they were all listening intently, which caused the flustered hobbit to blush, "Would you…would you happen to still have the book?"

"It's over there." Ori said pointing at the black book on the ground, next to Thorin's bedroll.

Wordlessly, Bilbo walked over to the book and carefully picked it up. Then, he turned to the fire, which illuminated their immediate surroundings and walked towards it. Quietly, he stood before it, holding the book to his chest as if encouraging himself to go through with what he had been asked to do. He kissed the tattered covered gently and then threw it into the blazing flames who rejoiced upon being fed. The book remained intact for a long moment, then it suddenly started to disintegrate without leaving ashes in its stead.

" _When you leave…would you please burn my book and set me free?"_

With a sigh of relief, Bilbo followed the sparks that had been summoned by the fire's crackling, and watched as they disappeared in the starry night sky. As the hobbit's mind strayed, something quite unexpected took place…

"Bilbo…?"

Surprised by the familiarity present in the use of his name, Bilbo slowly turned to the group of Dwarves staring at him in pure awe. Fíli and Kíli were the first to break from their surprise and smiled from one ear to another, "Bilbo!" They yelled harmoniously, and ran towards the shocked hobbit, "Bilbo! We remember you!"

Suddenly, the rest of the company followed, exclaiming that they too remembered the burglar. They ran to his side and quickly began hugging him, patting his back or ruffling his head affectionately. Only Gandalf and Thorin stood behind, watching the rest of the company rejoice at having found their lost friend.

"What are you thinking about?" Gandalf asked.

"I'm not thinking about anything." Thorin said, though there was evidently something on his mind.

"Then have you remembered something that you should have known long before you met with Bilbo Baggins again?" Gandalf smiled slyly.

"Based off your tone," the Dwarf King said, "I reckon you already know…"

"You may be right…" Gandalf partially confirmed, "However, there's someone who aught to know that still remains oblivious to it."

After a moment of consideration, Thorin slowly stepped forward. It was as though he was unsure on how he should proceed but the closer he got to the hobbit, the surer his step became. And the company that had surrounded Bilbo with affection, slowly separated, allowing their king passage, but Thorin stopped a meter away thus rendering their action unnecessary.

"Halfling…" Thorin said breaking the tense silence.

And that was all that needed to be said. Bilbo's lower lip quivered but he soon bit on it to stabilize it. Nonetheless, his eyes still watered and, unable to help himself, he jumped into Thorin's embrace. A part of him was expecting the Dwarf King to push him away but that never happened. Instead, Thorin carefully wrapped his arms around the other's smaller frame and held him tightly, as if afraid that he would disappear if he didn't.

"I love you so much…" Thorin whispered quietly. "I never got to tell you that…did I?"

Bilbo smiled; his throat too tight to allow him to utter a word or a sound. As a silent respond to the other, he rose to the tip of his toes and pressed his lips gently against the other's. Thorin jolted, surprised, but returned to kiss almost immediately. Once the two separated, they followed the company in a celebration which lasted the entire night. The worst was finally over.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Finally, this chapter is done and ready to go!**
> 
> **I was supposed to give it to you yesterday but, a reviewer told me that I deserved a lazy day so you get it today lol Blame her xP Nonetheless, this is the last chapter and I'd like to thank you all for following me for this long. I also want to thank Durch-Leiden-Freude for allowing me to use her little comic thing and make a story of it xP I hope I did justice to it and I hope I entertained all of you during these 10 chapters.**
> 
> **I decided to arrange things at the end as to have everything set itself in place for the beginning of the Lord of the Rings but also, I explained what happens with the Contractor. This is based off a popular belief...and that's all I'm going to say xP**
> 
> **Anyways, this is it, it's been a pleasure entertaining you all!**
> 
> **Actually, before I go, I just want to say that I'm dying to write another Hobbit fic but I have NO IDEA what to do! So if you want me to write something, leave it as a comment or review, it would be greatly appreciated :D**
> 
> **NOW ENJOY AND THANK YOU! Please leave a comment and or a review telling about what you thought of the story :D**
> 
> * * *

The sun was rising; most of the Dwarves had passed out due to the excess consumption of beer and mead that took lieu moments ago. Only Thorin and Bilbo, who both strayed away from the camp, were awake. They observed as the first sun rays pierced from behind the treetops and lessened the black that once pervaded the sky. They were very quiet yet comfortable in each other's presence; however, there were still matters that needed to be discussed.

Thorin was the first one to make a move; he shifted closer to the hobbit and placed his hand gently over Bilbo's. The latter smiled and responded to the gesture by intertwining his fingers with his King's. Then there was more silence until Thorin built the nerve to actually speak, "Halfling…" he said slowly but nervously, "I would like to thank you…for what you did for my nephews and I. When we parted in that different past, although I may have apologized for my actions, the conditions weren't necessarily positive. I never knew your feelings to be this strong…"

"That's because you were blinded by greed." Bilbo reproached playfully; nonetheless, Thorin flinched.

"Forgive me…" he muttered.

"I already have." Bilbo smiled, then he kissed Thorin's cheek gently.

"I would still like to repay your kindness." Thorin admitted. He took both of Bilbo's hands in his, "Would you please return to Erebor with us? I may not be able to have you as my wife, but I would have you as my consort – if you so wish it."

Bilbo smiled kindly, however a saddening vibe lingered in his action. He slowly pulled his hands away, to the dismay of Thorin and gently stroked the latter's cheek as comfortingly as possible. "I love you." Bilbo said, "I love you and don't you doubt that. However, I have a duty to the Shire."

"Duty?" Thorin replied hurt; he pulled away from the other's touch, "What duty? You have no family left! When we first met, you lived alone in your home where you barely received any visitors!"

As harsh as the mentioned statement was, it was still true. And Bilbo would have taken offence to it if he didn't know how the Dwarf King was when things didn't go as planned. When Bilbo thought about it, Thorin had probably expected him to jump in his arms and cry of joy – or something of the likes. "I do have family left," Bilbo conquered, "Granted, I don't keep much in contact with them, but it was shown to me that one of my young cousin will soon need me."

"And how would you know that?" Thorin asked spitefully.

"The Contractor owned a book he referred to as The Book of Odds," Bilbo explained, already guessing the Dwarf King's next reaction, "It was a book which sort of revealed the future, but because the future is uncertain, it calculated the odds more than anything. In it, it revealed that my little cousin, Frodo Baggins, will need me in a few years from now. If I'm not there to meet his needs, the chances are that Frodo will die—"

"You expect me to believe this rubbish?" Thorin snapped.

Bilbo smiled again, "I do," the hobbit confirmed, "I know you're upset Thorin, I really do, but don't mistake this answer to your request as a rejection to your love. I'm not refusing anything you're offering me; I'm asking you to wait."

"Wait?" Thorin repeated, he seemed to have calmed down, "How long do you expect me to wait?"

"Five years, give or take." Bilbo responded, "After five years, I swear I will find you in Erebor if I haven't been charged with the care of Frodo."

"Five years is too long." Thorin stated bitterly, "I do not wish to miss you for so long."

"We can always write to each other." Bilbo suggested, "And, in the end, it's just a number. Once it passes, we'll have the rest of our lives to spend together."

Thorin pondered the thought and then exchanged looks with Bilbo, "Alright," he agreed, "I'll wait for you to return to me, on one condition."

"And what is that?" Bilbo asked.

"You must let me have you now." Thorin demanded which caused Bilbo to blush brightly, "It's Dwarfish custom that two lovers, who are ready to promise themselves to one another for eternity, share an intimate moment to mark the beginning of the rest of their lives together."

"That's odd," Bilbo remarked, "Hobbits mark the beginning with a wedding in which both lovers must remain pure until after the ceremony."

"Well, it's not like we can get married, is it?" Thorin replied with a smirk.

"I suppose you're right." Bilbo said; then, he wrapped his arms around Thorin's neck and fell onto the grass, pulling the other over him. "Then let's abide Dwarfish custom."

* * *

Once the sun arose completely, awaking the company, they began to gather their things and packing the ponies. The beasts were rather displeased with the newly added weight even if it had lessened considerably what with the previous celebration. Once everything was set, the company set out to the Shire where they left Bilbo after a three day rest in Bag End. The other Dwarves protested upon hearing that the hobbit would not follow them to Erebor but gained some sort of comfort when it was said that he would return to them in five years. Gandalf, on the other hand, seem to bear some sort of understanding in regards to Bilbo's decision and the latter wondered if he knew something.

Nonetheless, it was a painful separation and, in the last few moments he shared with the Dwarf King, Bilbo began to second guess his decision. However, his personal morals wouldn't allow little Frodo to be abandoned in his time of need. Thus, with a final kiss, the two parted and, for some reason, Bilbo felt as though he would never see Thorin again.

* * *

When the five years had finally passed, things had changed considerably on both ends. Bilbo had accepted his little cousin into his home two years after he had parted with his friends. The little boy, too young to understand what he had lost, was apprehensive and confused when he first left his home; however, Frodo was a trusting boy and soon warmed to Bilbo who held his arms open.

Bilbo had never fancied himself a family man but he soon found that having a child in his life, to depend on him, was something he didn't entire hate – in fact, he enjoyed it. Frodo was his little ray of sun shine and though the hobbit-lad was rather reserved, he still babbled excitedly and got into countless troublesome situations with his friends. He would also dirty the house with his toys or with 'treasures' he gathered in the forest while searching for Elves. Frodo, in many ways, reminded Bilbo of his younger self and soon, he found himself completely wrapped in his little cousin's antics. So much so that he began to delay his responses to Thorin, to whom he used to write to every day.

When the time had come for Bilbo to pack his things and return to Thorin's side, the hobbit found himself hesitant. Before, leaving Hobbitton forever to stay by his true love's side seemed like the most exciting adventure of all. He had lost the respect of his neighbours, most of the furnishing in his home had been stolen, and the exciting taste of the unknown had still lingered; he had no reason to stay. At the exception of Frodo, of course. Nonetheless, he never expected to renew his love for Bag End but, particularly, Hobbitton. Now that the time had come to leave everything he had grown attached to once more, he found himself hesitant.

Bilbo spent long nights pondering his options. He was so distraught by the pros and cons of either decision that, sometimes, he would forget to sleep. Bilbo hadn't actually noticed his insomnia until Frodo, worried for his caretaker, had come to him in the middle of the night, asking why he wasn't sleeping. In need of comfort, Bilbo gathered his little cousin into his arms and sat him on his lap.

"I have to make a very difficult decision, Frodo," Bilbo said, stroking the smaller hobbit's hair soothingly, "And I'm not sure about what to do."

"What is it that you have to choose between?" Frodo asked with a yawn.

"I have to choose between two things that I love very much…" Bilbo admitted, he wasn't sure he wanted Frodo to know about his relationship with Thorin whom the former had come to admire greatly.

"Why can't you pick both?" Frodo asked, "Sam's Gaffer said that if you don't want to choose one thing, choose both. He said there's always some way to make things work out in the end."

"This isn't as simple as choosing between a raspberry tart and an apple tart." Bilbo chuckled.

"Then that must be really complicated…" Frodo yawned again.

"It is…" Bilbo sighed.

"Miss Boffin's tarts are the best." Frodo stated tiredly.

"They are, aren't they?" Bilbo agreed, glad to change the subject. "She likes you very much; always giving you and your friends treats isn't she?"

"Not Pippin." Frodo corrected, "He ruined her flowers."

"Of course." Bilbo chuckled, "Pippin's a troublesome Took…"

"Hey Bilbo?" Frodo asked, "Why don't you have a wife?"

The question stung but Frodo couldn't have known that love was at the source of his current dilemma. "I'm not sure…" he sighed.

"Pa used to say you were too dull for a wife," Frodo admitted sleepily, and Bilbo wasn't sure if he felt vexed or not by his late cousin's statement, "But when you came back from your adventure…he said that you were too far away in your dreamland to take proper care of a wife…he said you probably fell in love with someone…"

Bilbo blushed lightly. He had thought that all the hobbits had seen him as a lunatic that had dared ventured out of the Shire. Never would he have guessed that Drogo noticed something he thought he had been hiding well.

"Did you fall in love with someone?" Frodo asked.

"A…a little…" Bilbo admitted sheepishly.

"Did it hurt?"

"Did what hurt?"

"Falling?"

"No, Frodo," Bilbo laughed, "Falling in love isn't something physical, it's theoretical."

"What does that mean?" Frodo asked.

"It means that I didn't actually fall," Bilbo smiled, "It's just something people say."

"Oh…" Frodo mumbled, "Then where is she?"

"You're curious for a sleepy hobbit, aren't you?" Bilbo chuckled, " _She_ is far away, governing _her_ kingdom."

"She was a queen?" Frodo asked in awe, the declaration seemed to pull him out of his drowsy state.

"Sort of…" Bilbo mumbled.

"Do you miss her?"

Bilbo considered the question. Although the answer was obvious to him, he didn't know just how much he missed Thorin because he hadn't had the chance to during the pass three years. "I miss hi— _her_ very much…" Bilbo said with a sad smile.

"Don't you want to be with her?" Frodo asked, there was concern in his voice.

"Why do you ask?" Bilbo inquired, it was odd for a hobbit-lad to be so interested in love.

"Because…" Frodo started in a small voice, "Sam didn't want to play with me today. He said that he was in love with Rosie, he also said that people who are in love need to stay together or else they miss each other…"

"Oh, poor Frodo," Bilbo sighed, rocking the small boy in his arms, "Just give him some time. I'm sure Sam will come back to you when he realises that playing with flowers and knitting isn't as amusing as wandering the forest in search of Elves."

"Are you going to leave me too?" Frodo asked, resting his head against Bilbo's shoulder. "Are you going to find your queen and leave me too?"

"No, of course not," Bilbo reassured, "I won't leave you until I know you'll be able to manage on your own…"

And just like that, Bilbo made his decision. He had been rather shocked upon later realising that he had done so without his notice. And though he felt horrible to value a newly made promise to that of an old one, Bilbo was sure that Thorin would understand even if he would potentially sulk for long periods of time in regards to his choice.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Erebor, things had become rather chaotic for the line of Durin. After being shouted at by Daín, who was upset by the fact that not only had Thorin not brought back the hobbit, but most Dwarves of the Ironhills had decided to make Erebor their new home, Thorin was faced with many political and financial issues. The palace within the Lonely Mountain had to be renovated, cleaned and polished. The mines had to be examined, the lifts had to be inspected and fixed, and workers needed to be found – though acquiring the latter was the less troublesome task to complete. Then homes, lands and permits had to be given to the Dwarfs returning to Erebor but, more than anything, a peace patrol had to be established. Thorin also had to deal with the relations of his neighbours, particularly Thranduil who was still so adamant in receiving a portion of Smaug's gold.

Indeed, there had been many things to do and much weight was suddenly dropped upon Thorin's shoulders. However, he recognized this as the duty of a King and silently accepted the burden. But the most stressful events the Dwarf King would have to overcome weren't in the regards of his people, but in that of his youngest nephew's. Kíli, having been inspired by Gandalf, insisted that he should embark on an adventure of his own. Due to the state of their kingdom and the support Thorin would need from both of his nephews, the request was denied. As to assure that Kíli would be unable to leave Erebor on his own accord, Thorin also took the initiative to forbid every clerk within his territory that if any of them were to provide the youngest prince with any means to partake on an adventure, that they would suffer horrible consequences. Nonetheless, Kíli was a cunning Dwarf.

Although the young prince did attempt to acquire his necessities on his own and failed, he thought of an alternative. He convinced Ori, who had also been enchanted by the old wizard's words, to follow him on his voyage and help him gather the objects necessary. It only took a short moment for Kíli to convince Ori to follow him in his shenanigans because the latter was always easily influenced. Thus they gathered all that was needed and fled the confines of Erebor in the late hours of the night.

By the time Thorin heard of the escapade, it was too late to retrieve his troublesome nephew who was far out of his reach. Though Kíli didn't know where he was going or why, so after aimlessly wandering and losing himself in the wilderness, he brought Ori to Gondor where the latter learned a great deal about Men. But by setting foot in Gondor, the word of Kíli's whereabouts quickly reached Thorin who sent Fíli after him.

When Fíli actually managed to reach his brother after a long journey, Kíli and Ori had gotten themselves in a great deal of trouble. After running out of food and money, Kíli had gotten the idea to stage an Orc assault on an Elf camp in order to scare them away and steal their food. Kíli had thought Elves to be weaklings, just as his uncle had described them to be, but was unpleasantly surprised when the group responded to their scheme with a rain of arrows. Though they hadn't been seriously injured, they were still held captive. To make matters worse, the leader of the camp was none other than Thranduil's son: Legolas Greenleaf.

The Dwarfs had initially thought that the prince of Mirkwood would deliever them to his father and use them as hostages in order to obtain a portion of Smaug's gold, but Legolas wasn't that sort of being. In fact, he was nothing like his father. He was a calm, serene and gentle man who treated his prisoners almost as well as his guests. He was also curious, so much so that he actually fell for Kíli during the short amount of time they spent together. What was even more shocking to Fíli was when he learned that Kíli shared the Elf's feelings and essentially slept with him.

Of course, Fíli was disappointed in his brother but that was nothing compared to the fury Thorin unleashed on the young prince upon his return. Never had Thorin yelled so loudly, but it must have been more because he was worried than angry. Nonetheless, Kíli was confined to his room and forbidden from leaving the castles grounds yet none of that stopped him from escaping here and then with the help of his new Elven lover.

Other than that, Thorin also had to come to terms that the line of Durin would end with his nephews and he. Kíli's love was directed towards an Elf man whereas Fíli's love was centered around Ori. Though he wished that one of them would make the exception to sleep with a woman in order to have a child, he knew none of them would because they were too loyal to the object of their affection.

In times like that, Thorin soon found himself thinking of his lovely hobbit located so far away from he. And even if the years did roll by fast, Thorin had the lingering feeling that Bilbo would never appear when he was meant to. Perhaps it was something he assumed from the delayed responses of his love, or maybe he was inventing things with his anxious mind; yet, the point was that the Dwarf King longed for Bilbo and could never express so through his letters. It seemed as though words could barely describe just how intense the emotion was, and he never had much of a way with words in the first place so it was safe to say that said feeling was never properly conveyed.

When the time came for Bilbo to announce his arrival to Erebor, Thorin was barely unfazed when, instead, he received a letter explaining to him that he couldn't abandon Frodo just yet. Of course, Thorin understood; the lad was still far too young to survive on his own, he needed family to depend on, and separating him from the Shire in order to establish him in a foreign kingdom in a far away land filled with strangers was out of the question. And so, because he loved Bilbo so much, he was ready to allow him to prolong their separation because it was for a noble cause.

"As long as you return to me one day, my love," Thorin wrote in his reply, "If you promise me that much, then I will wait for you here and will greet you with open arms."

And in return, Bilbo promised that he wouldn't disappoint the Dwarf King, though many years would pass before either of them would lay eyes on each other again. Thorin's hair wouldn't be as black as the night, Fíli would have accepted to create a heir, Kíli would have fled with his Elf-lover (with Thorin's consent), the older members of the company would be resting peacefully in their eternal bed, whereas the others would be living comfortably in luxurious homes. Bilbo, on the other hand, would have given away his most prized possession to Frodo after fleeing Hobbitton on his birthday. But, as mentioned, the future is uncertain…

" _There's a book called the Book of Odds…_

_When you would have embarked on your final journey in the hopes of revisiting Erebor, you would have become too weak to continue pass Rivendell..."_

* * *

**2010 years after the birth of Christ**

* * *

It was as though the realization of existing had suddenly returned to him along with all of his memories of another life. Sitting behind a counter covered in various chemicals and formulas, the Contractor realised that not only was he free, but he also in a different time with a different life and a _different name_. The label he had been given so long ago by people he vaguely remembered couldn't apply to him anymore because he had a name.

_A name_.

"Mister Sherlock?" a voice called from the other end of the room.

Wordlessly, he looked up and tried to remain unfazed as he saw someone he had never met before in his current life. Nonetheless, he still knew who the stranger was because he vowed that he would never forget his face.

"May I introduce Doctor John Watson."


End file.
